Where do I go from Here?
by K. Dorn
Summary: Nadia was taken when she was nine and then spent five years on Stryker's team. It's ten years later and she has started her own life when an unwelcome face comes asking for help. Will her fears force her to run or will she finally face her demons?
1. Chapter 1

To this day I can remember when I was taken. I was barely nine years old and had just witnessed my two brothers' deaths. I was terrified and just trying to protect my mother and me from a worse fate. It doesn't take an idiot to understand what would have happened to us. I realize now, I should have accepted it. Because the hatred and guilt I ended up with has been torturing me for all the ten years since that night.

"Nadya, wake up child," my mother had whispered in my ear. I opened my eyes and saw it was still dark. "You need to get up. Get dressed, we are leaving." She had sounded so frightened. I took all my strength not to start crying. I had never known my mother to be afraid. I sat up in bed to find my two older brothers Piotr and Nicholas throwing clothes and food into bags.

"Mama?" I questioned softly.

"Get dressed sweetheart, hurry." I crawled out of the bed I shared with my mother and hurriedly pulled on a worn pair of slacks and one of Nicholas' old sweatshirts. It was far too large for me, but I didn't have any sweatshirts of my own and it was cold. I didn't know what to do next, so I watched my small family rush about. My mother kept glancing through our tiny windows as if searching for something out in the darkness. It was at that moment I heard the first screams.

I stood still as a statue, not knowing what was happening. "Put on your boots, Nadya," Piotr ordered, handing them to me. Under any other occasion I would have ignored him, but when I saw the desperation in his eyes I obeyed without question. Piotr was seven years older than I and Nicholas, five years older. I didn't like taking orders, but I remember how scared I was.

Suddenly we heard a light tap on our door. We all turned and said nothing. Once more I felt the urge to cry, but a look from Piotr stopped me. My mother stepped forward and called, "Who's there?" Her voice cracked in fear. I could hear more screams, this time closer than the first.

"Marishka, open the door," I sighed at the sound of the familiar voice. "It's Mikhail." He was our village leader. My mother quickly opened the door and ushered him in. I glanced outside as the door opened and stifled a cry. I could see flames above the treetops. The screams grew louder.

"Are you ready?" he asked hurriedly. "They are nearly here. We have to make a run for it while we still can." He glanced down at me as I clutched my mother's heavy shirt. "Are your children ready?"

"We're ready now. Piotr, take your sister's hand and don't let go." He grasped my tiny hand and placed a small pack on my back. "Nicholas," mother said, turning to my second brother, "Can you take care of those packs?"

"Yes Mama," he replied, his voice shaking as he nodded.

"Mama what's going on?" I finally asked. "It's too dark to go outside." I wasn't afraid of the dark; I just didn't want to move any closer to the screams. And then, we heard the gunshots.

I cried. Boy, did I cry. My mother let out a scream and Mikhail picked me up as if I were light as a feather and shouted, "Run!" He began running with me over his shoulder as I watched my family follow. Nicholas looked as if he was just as terrified as I was. That made me even more scared, if that was actually possible.

I was still crying when I finally saw what we were running from. Men…very large men, with very large guns. At first I saw six of them move stealthily into the clearing where the core of our village had lived. I gave a scream and Mikhail pulled me down to his chest.

"Shush…we can't let them find us." Then he gave a faint shout to my mother, "We have to hide somewhere. We can't outrun them." I let loose one more sob when I heard another set of screams.

Nicholas spoke up now, "Mama, the cabin Casha Pavlovich built with his father! It has a secret space under the floor. Follow me!" With that, my dear brother ran ahead and led us to the cabin that was little more than a dirty hut. Mikhail placed me on my feet. I wobbled for a moment on the rocky ground, when Piotr grabbed my shoulders to steady me. I quickly latched onto his hand.

He looked down at me, tucking a red strand of my hair behind my ear. "It'll be ok Nadya, I promise." Me and my childish fantasies believed him. When Nicholas found the entrance to the secret space, Mikhail looked inside and swore.

My mother looked in and closed her eyes. "We can't all fit, Marishka. You take Nicholas and Nadezhka and hide in there. Piotr and I will keep running."

"No!" my mother cried. "Piotr will hide…you and I will run." She glanced at us children, and said "Get in! All of you now." She picked me up and put me into the hole. Nicholas quickly followed, squeezing in next to me. I waited for Piotr to join us, but he stayed where he was.

"Get in Piotr," my mother scolded a fearful look on her face.

"No Mama, you get in. I'm a faster runner than you are." My mother tried pushing him in, but despite the fact my brother was only sixteen, he was already as tall as my mother and much stronger. He looked at Mikhail. "You know I'm right, tell her. If she doesn't get in now we'll all be captured here arguing."

There was a pause and then Mikhail agreed. "He's right, Misha. Get in. I'll take care of Piotr. You keep Nadya quiet. We'll lead them away." My mother gave a pained look on her face but finally nodded and squeezed down with my second brother and myself. Mikhail lowered the floor down over us and I heard them run out of the cabin and through the woods.

"Mama," I murmured pressing my face into her lap. She shushed me while pulling Nicholas and me closer.

"Mama, I'm scared," I continued. "Where did Piotr go?"

"Hush darling," she whispered. "Your brother is fine, but you need to be quiet."

"Why are those men chasing us Mama," I asked, ignoring her desperate pleas for my silence.

"Be quiet Nadya," Nicholas ordered angrily. I started to protest, when my mother clapped a head over my mouth.

"Shush dear," she murmured. I clamped my mouth shut, but her hand remained where it was. I listened as both my mother and Nicholas held their breaths. Suddenly I heard footsteps outside the small cabin. Someone above us opened the door and entered the cabin. I could see the boots through the cracks in the floor. I shut my eyes tight when they began to speak.

"Why are we out here? Everyone's rounded up back there," the first man said, irritation layered in his fast talking voice.

"Shut up Wade, we got our orders. Dukes saw someone run through here…" a second, deeper voice said. It wasn't until after I was taken that I learned English and was able to figure out this conversation.

"I'm just saying-," the first man continued.

"One of these days," a third man interrupted, "Stryker's gonna say 'to hell with you and your goddamn mouth' and get rid of you."

"Fuck him, John, no one can touch this." That's when I heard a swishing sound and saw a glint of silver through the floorboards. My mother had relaxed her hand at this point and I let out a small yelp. She once more grabbed my mouth and I held my breath.

"What was that?" the swordsman Wade asked.

"What do you think?" the third man called John asked. "Someone is here. Jimmy…"

"I know…" he answered. "They're below us." I listen as the three men stopped talking and positioned themselves around the room.

"How come they aren't trying to get away?" John asked. He obviously wasn't the one in charge.

"Don't know English probably," the one called Jimmy answered. "Or they have nowhere to run to."

"Where?" The man called Wade asked. I heard a shuffling of boots and then silence.

Then Jimmy spoke again, this time his voice raised. "What're you doing?"

"What I was trained to…" Wade answered.

"No don't!"

"Stop, Wade!"

And that's when the silver sword came through the floor and went through my brother's neck. My mother screamed as I had never heard someone scream before. Blood sprayed everywhere as the door into our space was ripped open. The one called Wade pulled his sword from Nicholas, his eyes wide with fear in what he had just done.

My dear brother was crying as my mother tried to stem the flow of blood. All I could do was stare. Suddenly I felt myself being lifted from the hole by the man Jimmy.

"Mama!" I cried, trying to break free of the man's huge arms. "Mama!"

"No!" my mother cried grabbing my ankle. "Put her down, she's mine!" She was crying and covered in blood. The man John grabbed hold of my mother and dragged the two of us out into the night, leaving my dying brother behind.

"Nicholas!" my mother yelled with a crazed look in her eye. "Give me my son you bastards," she screamed as she scratched at her captors face. Perhaps if he understood Russian he would have understood she merely wanted to be with her child as he died. Instead, he slapped her and began dragging her to the main yard of the village. My captor and I followed, me still struggling to get away. Wade followed us, his eyes gazing at the ground in guilt.

When we reached the village, I began my crying once more at the sight of the dead bodies littered around us, including my best friend Nastya. "Nastya!" I screamed, reaching for my friend. But my captor held me fast. "Wake up! Wake up!" She didn't answer me. I looked back over to my mother who was crying and trying to reach my hand.

"Nadya its ok little one!" she shouted to me. "Close your eyes, Close your eyes!"

I shut my eyes tight and covered my ears with my hands. I just wanted it all to go away. I imagined getting away and running far away. I imagined being with my first brother, being safe and away from these awful, evil men. I heard muffled voices around me so I opened my eyes, keeping my hands over my ears. I saw now new men were with us. I caught the eye of one of them. He leered at me and gave a wink. I remember his hands more than anything. His nails were at least four cm long and sharp as they could be. I shut my eyes once more hoping I would disappear.

As I tried to drown out the sounds of death around me, I felt someone pulling my hands from my ears. "No!" I cried. "No! Mama!"

"Be quiet, girl," and unfamiliar voice ordered. My eyes opened wide at the sound of my own language. One of the scary men was speaking to me in Russian. I wasn't sure what to think of this so I quickly shut my mouth and stared at him.

"Now you listen to me, girl," he softly. He looked Japanese to me, not that I had seen many Japanese men in my life. I glanced over at my mother. The man John had apparently handed her to another man. This one was big and blonde with angry looking eyes. My mother was crying softly and she has a bloody lip. Her nose was gushing as well. She was watching me, fearing both our fates.

"I asked you a question," the Japanese man said, slapping my face. My mother cried out and the blonde man hit her too.

"Mama…" I whispered. Jimmy had set me down and was now holding my hand tightly in his own. I looked up at him; he was frowning.

"You want your mama?" The man across from me asked. I nodded slowly. "Then you had better cooperate and do as I say. Do you understand?" I stared at him in fear. "Do you understand?" I quickly nodded at the sound of his yelling.

"Good, now what's your name?" I looked at my mother and she nodded for me to go ahead.

"Nadezhda," I replied softly. I noticed another man standing back farther for the first time that night. He was in a military uniform I didn't recognize. He was smiling.

"Good, how old are you?" the man asked next. I shifted my gaze back to my interrogator.

"Nine."

He smiled at me. I couldn't help but smile back. He could speak to me, and I had hoped he would help me. Stupid. "Do you know why we are here?" he asked next.

"No," I answered quickly. "I want my mama."

"You'll get your mama when we're finished." I nodded.

"You know why we're here," he stated tucking a strand of hair behind one ear, just as Mikhail had done.

At that moment, I understood. How had they known about me? How did they find me? It had started less than one year before. My mother told me to hide it, to never tell a soul. She told me people didn't like those who were different. She told me to pretend nothing was different about me…but there was.

I glanced at my mother and she shook her head. "No," I answered.

He chuckled and replied, "That wasn't a question." I just stared into his cool, grey eyes. "I'll make you a deal, every time you lie to me, that man over there," he motioned toward the blonde man holding my mother, "will hurt your mama."

My eyes widened as I stared at my mother, but I still shook my head no.

With a sigh, he stood up and walked over to the military man. They spoke for a few minutes and I looked back over at my mother. She looked horrible. I tugged on Jimmy's hand next to me.

"Mama," I said, pointing toward her.

Another man, the one with the nails strutted over and hit my face. "You shut up and sit still." I didn't understand his words but I got his meaning. My mother cried out at that.

"Viktor," the man next to me growled. "Don't touch her again."

"What are you gonna do Jimmy?" I didn't understand what was going on, but I watched the exchange, terrified I would be killed if they began to fight. "You gonna hit me? Then hit me." They glared at one another until the military man spoke for the first time.

"Viktor," he shouted. "Take the mother, she isn't needed." I heard Viktor laugh and walk to my mother. I watched as he grabbed her from the blonde man. My mother started screaming and trying to get away. I tried to run toward her, but to no avail. The large man next to me was holding me too tightly.

"Mama!" I cried. "Mama, please!" I kept pushing away from the large man. I knew what I had to do, but I was scared. My mother told me that I should never use my gift. Never.

The other men watched silently as Viktor started dragging my sobbing mother into the forests. A small man took a step forward, but the military man stopped him. "Stay where you are, Bradley."

"But Sir…" Bradley answered angrily.

"I said no." Bradley stopped and glanced over to watch me struggle. Finally, I had no choice and my gift let loose. I huge rush went through my body and out my hand, pushing the man next to me away from me and smashing him into a tree.

I cried out and flung my small hands out in front of me. I knocked the military man, Bradley, and the blonde man clear on their backs. I heard gunshots and turned just in time to knock the bullets back using my shields. "Mama!" I cried out.

I watched as Viktor dropped my mother and ran toward me, reaching with his terrifying hands. I used my gift and threw him back into one of the village homes. I reached my mother and quickly surrounded the both of us in one of my shields.

"Mama," I whispered. "It's okay now."

"Nadezhda…" I looked up and saw the men were all up and coming toward my small haven. The Japanese man was translating for the military man. "You can't stay in there forever. You will get tired, we will take you, and your mother will die."

"No!" I shouted. "You can't!

"Or…" the military man continued, "You can just come with us now, and we'll leave your mother be. It's up to you…" I held my breath as the Japanese man finished his translation. I glanced over each man's face, begging for help I knew wouldn't come. I turned back toward my mother and placed her head in my lap.

"Mama," I whispered. "What are we going to do?"

"Nadya…" she replied. "It's going to be okay, you know."

"How do you know?" I asked. I flashed a look up and saw everyone was watching our exchange. We were quiet enough though, to escape their hearing.

My mother sighed as she smiled through the blood on her face. I wiped off as much as I could with Nicholas' sleeve. "Would I lie to you darling? Have I ever?"

I shook my head and squeezed her hand in mine. "I don't want to go with them," I told her, a tear running down my face. "I don't know what to do…I'm so tired."

"I know you are." We sat there silently as a brushed through my mother's course black hair with my nimble little fingers. She was watching the men around us, but I didn't want to see their faces anymore. I began thinking about Nicholas. Was he dead yet? I hoped so. I didn't want to think of him in pain. I hoped Piotr had gotten away safely, but my heart was telling me I would never see either of my brothers ever again. All I had left was my mother, and now I was losing her.

I closed my eyes and let loose a few pathetic sobs from my throat. "Mama…I need to go now."

"No Nadya, I don't care what they say," she told me forcefully. "You will not leave me while there is life in my body."

"I don't want you to leave me. They'll take you away…and then they'll take me." She focused her own good eye on me as tears began running down her face. "Shush," I told her. I had never before had to quiet my own mother; that was supposed to be her job. "I'll be ok…and so will you."

"Nadya…" she started.

"Don't Mama," I murmured. "I promise I'll come back. I'll find you, and you'll find Piotr and we'll be together. We will, won't we?" She suppressed crying out as she nodded her head for my sake.

"I love you my little Nadezhda. I will wait for you…" That's when I released my hold over my shield and stood up. I stood as tall as I could and spoke to the military man.

"My Mama needs a doctor…and you promise me you'll never touch her again. She will be safe." He stared at me intently as his translator did his job and finally nodded. I watched as he ordered who I would later learn to be Dukes and Bradley to take my mother to a hospital and leave her with compensation for me. Jimmy took my hand and led me through the woods, following the rest of the men. I glanced back once to see the two men helping my mother to their jeep. Little did I know that would be the last time I would ever see her.


	2. Chapter 2

Five Years Later…

I stayed close to Jimmy after from then on. He watched out for me, like none of the other bothered to. He taught me English, he taught me how to fight (I think mainly to defend myself from Viktor, though he never said) and above all, he taught me never to lose my compassion. Apparently, it was easy to do in our line of work.

I tried not to think about my mother too often, or else I would be consumed with thoughts of her and my brothers. It was hard in the beginning; I would begin to cry which resulted in a good slap to the face. I learned to control my feelings during the first few years. Apparently I was a quick learner, which was good I suppose.

When I was thirteen, I had been a part of Colonel Stryker's Team for four years, though it seemed more like a century. I was obviously the youngest, but I was also the only girl. Wade came next. It was odd though. Despite the fact that he murdered my brother, if Jimmy wasn't around it was Wade I clung to. He seemed to be the only one that ever legitimately stood up to Stryker, something that never ceased to impress me.

Looking back I probably developed a crush on him. He was in his early twenties, handsome, and horribly clever. He wasn't like the rest of us though. He had no extra powers. He was a mercenary…a highly trained, highly skilled paid assassin. I would never see anyone handle swords the way he had. He was an artist with those blades, much more impressive than Zero and his guns.

Zero was the first one who spoke to me the night I was taken. I still don't know how many languages he actually speaks, for he always seems to spew out another one at random times. Zero was a mutant who had an inhuman sight perception, giving him unparalleled skill as a sniper and marksman.

Chris Bradley, the man who had tried to speak out for my mother against Viktor, had, if possible, less authority than I did. He was a technopath. His purpose seemed to me little more than to flying the plane and lighting up dark rooms. Unfortunate, I always thought. He was kind to me and stood up for me to the men in the troop who held either no respect for my abilities or unbridled contempt for me in general.

Fred Dukes was the polar opposite of Bradley; big, muscular and dumb. His power? He was basically a giant unmovable mass. I watched him face off against tanks, semis and more. The only reason I was scared of him, I think was his size. And, if Viktor could have any friends at all, Dukes had to be one of them. They had the same "I don't care, I like to kill" attitude. Stryker liked that about them. It explained his preference of them over guys like Bradley and John.

John was another of the few decent men in the group. He was a teleporter. I remember asking him once why he didn't just poof and leave our horrible life of killing behind him. I'll never forget what he told me. "Nadya, as long as I keep this up, I don't have to look back at all the bad shit we've done. That's the trick little girl, always look forward, never back." He was right though. At night and when I was left to myself, I caught myself remembering the faces of the people whose lives we destroyed. I heard their pleas and saw the children reaching out. Ever since then, I've taken John's warning. I don't look back. Never.

And so I come to Viktor, Jimmy's brother if you can believe it. Viktor was something else entirely. He terrified me in a way nothing else ever would. Jimmy could barely keep him in check, despite the fact how they obviously respected each other. Viktor's powers were much like Jimmy's. They couldn't be hurt, or as far as I know, killed at all. Viktor could also extend the bones that were his pointed nails to become weapons like no other. I tried to avoid him, but somehow he always managed to be around to torment me. If it weren't for Jimmy's obvious protection over me, I wouldn't have lasted a year.

But I did have Jimmy and I lasted five years. I was fourteen and used to the scene in which I worked and to the men I worked with. We move onto the night Jimmy left the team and made the decision to take me with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note – I'm using the movie versions of the characters as opposed to the comic book versions, so as not to confuse those who have only seen the movies. But I do highly recommend the comic books themselves!

Africa, 1995…

I wasn't sure why we were going to Africa. Stryker never thought it necessary to tell me what was going on. I don't know why his secrets bothered me so much, when everyone else just seemed to go along. But I was fourteen, and I guess I was just at that age when everyone and everything pissed me off in some fashion. But still…I had a bad feeling about Africa. It wasn't like our other missions. It was darker. Even the plane ride felt wrong. Stryker was quiet. Zero was quiet; in fact the only one really talking much at all was Wade. But then again, he really never shut up.

I remember sitting between Wade and John. Why do I remember such a small detail? Because I, in the grandeur of puberty, was thrilled to the bone whenever near Wade. And I remember Viktor sat across from me. Why do I remember that? I promise that it wasn't pleasure I felt while near him. It was utter nausea and fear. Wade smiled, Viktor leered.

Wade was polishing one of his swords and talking about them in the way, normal people would talk about their children. At least I assumed that was what normal people talked about. I had been surrounded by an all male team of killers for five years. For all I knew, they _were_ the normal ones.

I watched as Wade leaned forward, glancing at Viktor. "I love these swords more than anything else in the world. Want to know why?" he asked Viktor. Viktor snarled and replied with a soft no. Wade gave a chuckle.

"I do," I told him, sitting up straighter in my seat. Wade didn't even look at me; he just continued staring at Viktor, a small glint in his eyes.

"They're memorable," he told him. "Sure they're bulky, tough to get on planes…but whip out a couple of swords at your ex girlfriend's wedding, and it will be a day they never, ever forget."

"Did you really do-" I started to ask but Viktor spoke over me.

"I'm sorry Wade, but I think you've mistaken me for someone who gives a shit." I crossed my arms and sat back in a huff. I glanced over at Jimmy, who more and more I began to call Logan, who was looking terribly ill. I knew he hated flying, and Bradley certainly didn't help with his midflight aerobatics.

I shifted my attention once more to Wade. "Granted they may not be as intimidating as a gun, bone claws, or say the fingernails of a bag lady…" In all my maturity, I let out a small giggle at Wade's jab at Viktor. Before I knew it, I felt Viktor's hand around my neck. He pulled me out of my seat and brought me close to his face. I had been so scared. I couldn't breathe as I tried to pry his hand from my tiny neck.

"Viktor, put her down," Logan ordered. Wade had stood up, his hand on the hilt of his sword. I felt myself losing consciousness when Logan spoke again. "I mean it, Viktor." Suddenly I felt myself crumple to the floor. I coughed and gasped for breath. As I looked up at Viktor, he sneered.

"You ever laugh at me again," he threatened, "and I'll rip out your throat." He leaned back while I stood and returned to my seat next to Wade's. He was still standing, looking very angry. When Wade finally did return to his seat, I glanced over at him, massaging my throat. I felt blood. Wade sighed and from out of nowhere, whipped out a pink band aid. He placed it where Viktor's nails broke skin and patted me on the head. I was in Heaven.

Looking back, I was an idiot. There I was: fourteen, pubescent, and utterly in love with the man who murdered my brother. There are so many things that don't register for teenage girls. The only thought that can bring me any solace at all in my innate lack of common sense is that it wasn't just me. Every teenage girl I see nowadays has that same pathetic glow of awkward puppy love that I am sure I wore around Wade.

Excuse me, I digress. As I watched Wade continue to polish his swords, I became lost in my thoughts once more. I didn't even realize Stryker was calling my name until Zero promptly leaned over and smacked my head.

"Ow!" I cried. "I'm sorry, what?" I glared angrily at Zero who had gone back to loading his guns.

"Nadya." I looked up at Stryker as he beckoned me to join him with his hand. He sat up front near Bradley. Throughout my years working with…working for Stryker, I came to notice something. He was not a happy man. I didn't know why, and I certainly had no intention of asking him now.

"Yes sir?" I asked, sitting down next to him. "I'm sorry I caused a fight…"

"What?" he asked impatiently. "No, it's fine. I just need to talk to you about the mission."

"Really?" I was shocked. He never felt the need to include me on planning. I was basically a human shield to make sure no one (especially him) was shot.

"I just want to make sure you're feeling all right. You've been lazy as of late, and frankly, tonight there will be no room for you goofing around or ignoring orders. I'm sick of your attitude, Nadya. I won't have it anymore." He gave me a hard look. "Do you understand?"

I couldn't answer. I was shocked. Here I thought he was maybe letting me in on a little secret, while in fact I was being chastised. "Goofing off, Sir?" I asked. I do admit that here, I allowed some attitude to creep into my voice.

"I don't recall requesting you to answer my question with another question. Do you understand or don't you?" Bradley was looking at me quizzically, which only angered me further.

"What Bradley? Do I have something on my face?" I shouted, ignoring Stryker's question once more.

"What- no…" he replied in a confused way.

"Right here Nadya!" Stryker barked. "This is what I'm talking about. Your attitude is unacceptable." I could feel myself getting more irritated by the second. And by now, the rest of the team was watching the exchange.

"Unacceptable?" I asked. "What do you mean? I do everything you tell me, you order and I follow. You're being completely unfair!" I cried. At this point, my anger was about to cross that narrow line into hysteric. "You don't yell at anyone else like this!"

At this point Logan stood up. "He's not yelling, Nadya," he explained, trying in vain to calm me.

"Yes he is! And you're taking his side too," I shrieked. Tears were now rolling down my face and I could hardly contain myself anymore. "You are all such assholes! All of you." I glared at each of the men who just watched me in complete confusion and slight nervousness.

"But Nadya," Logan tried again. I think Stryker had given up. He was rubbing his temples and glaring at the floor in anger. He liked to let Logan deal with me when I became upset.

"No!" I shouted. I could feel myself shaking. At this moment, I didn't even know why I was shouting. I simply couldn't stop myself. "You're the worst of all Logan. You pretend to be my friend, but really you're not. You're not my mother Logan! Remember? You took her away from me!" With that being said, I ran to the back of the plane and locked myself in the bathroom.

I proceeded to cry for the first time in probably three years for my mother. I must have made the team terribly uncomfortable, because they did not retrieve me for the mission and I did not reemerge until we had once more resumed flight. No one said a word to me, not even to ask if I was all right. Those assholes…


	4. Chapter 4

I took my seat once more between Wade and John. No one looked at me and no one said a word. I tried catching Logan's eye, but his head was between his knees. I glanced at Wade but quickly looked away, completely embarrassed by my earlier behavior. I knew why I had lashed out, but it wasn't something I was particularly eager to share with the rest of the team.

I knew I would have to apologize sooner or later to Stryker or risk even more of his anger. He couldn't have been happy on me skipping Phase One of the mission. So I let out a small sigh and cleared my throat. "Colonel Stryker Sir?" I called nervously. I was met with silence. "Sir I am sorry…" More silence.

"Sir I-"

"Shut it," ordered Zero. I opened my mouth to start arguing once more, but caught myself. I supposed it would be best to just lay low and wait for Stryker to speak to me. Until then, I would be able to relax in some peace and quiet for once.

I must admit, my curiosity was getting the better of me. It killed me that I had no idea what had happened earlier and that now I had no idea where we were off too. I was especially curious about the strange rock Stryker was holding in his hands. He stared at it completely enraptured and I couldn't help wonder about its meaning.

I was itching to lean over and ask John or Logan, but Stryker spoke first.

"When we land, I want everyone rounded up. No one is to leave, and no one is to be killed…at least not yet." Stryker glanced over to Viktor. "Am I understood?" The team replied with a series of yes sirs.

"Wade, for God's sake do not screw with the translating again. Not tonight, no more problems." He shifted his gaze toward me and I blushed. "And Nadya." I looked up expectantly. "You stay on the plane."

Man, if he hated me so much, why did he even bother with me? I get the shield thing, but seriously…I was basically a pain in everyone's ass, not to mention a kid. Maybe he just got a weird kick out of making little girls shoot people. Whatever his reason, I hated him for it.

I hated that I was always begging for his forgiveness or approval. I hated that he took me from my family. I hated that I've never gotten to go shopping and that I've never kissed a boy. And Jesus Christ, I hated that Dukes had to be the one to tell me when I had my first period. But beyond all that…you know what I hated Stryker for the most?

He scared the living shit out of me. More so than Viktor even. Stryker was a man who was evil. I have no doubt in my mind. Dukes may have been mean and stupid and Viktor mean and crazy, but Stryker was going to Hell one day and I just hoped he wouldn't kill me before that day came.

When Bradley began the landing process once more, I didn't even bother arguing with Stryker. I may have craved his approval, but I wasn't about to beg him to let me help kill people. The men stood up around me, still refusing to talk to me. Only Logan bothered to give me a pat on the shoulder before he left.

I looked through my small window as they headed into the jungles of Africa. I was alone once more, and while I should have been happy with my few moments of peace, I couldn't relax. I began to pace back and forth, while thoughts of everything I had been through went through my mind.

I thought of leaving my mother and I wondered if she was truly still alive as Stryker promised. I thought of the girl not much older than I who was my first kill. I remember crying for days over what I had done, before Stryker finally told me to suck it up and do as ordered or my mother would be next. I thought about leaving the team and what that would mean for me. Where would I go and most importantly, how would I escape?

As it so happened, planning my escape wasn't necessary. About an hour after the team left, Logan came storming back.

"Logan?" I asked confusedly. "What-"

"We're leaving…now." He strode passed me and into the cockpit, while I followed.

"What are you talking about? Where are the others?" I glanced out the window for any sign of the rest of the team.

"We're leaving. I'm done here, and so are you. We should have left years ago…" He was pressing buttons like mad. "How the hell does a guy sabotage a plane?" I wasn't sure who he was asking so I stayed quiet.

"But Stryker…" I started softly.

"Fuck Stryker." He turned around and knelt in front of me. "Nadya, are you getting me? We are going to leave him and this all behind…for good."

"Logan, he'll find us." I was getting really scared. The idea of Stryker…of Viktor tracking me down was terrifying. I would much rather stay and always know where they were, than run into them on the street because of some weird twist of fate.

"Nadya, I need you to trust me. I've never asked anything from you. Please…I know I robbed you of any real life, but right now I'm trying to fix that. Now…what do you say?" At that moment he wasn't the man who took me from my family. He was my friend, my guardian, and the only family I had left.

I gave him a small smile and I nodded my head. "Okay," I told him. He returned my smile and took my hand. We left the plane, but while I started walking into the jungle, Logan stopped me.

"Hold on. We need to destroy the plane. That'll give us some time." He looked up at the craft in thought.

"Hey, I think can do it," I told him hesitantly. He gave me a look of skepticism. I nodded, my confidence growing. "Really. I've been practicing."

"Practicing what exactly?" I smiled and turned toward the plane.

Taking a breath, I raised my hands and concentrated the engine nearest me. Rather than create a force field around it, I created one inside of the engine. It began small, but I felt it begin to grow. I forced it to press the boundaries of the engine walls. Suddenly it blew.

I must admit, I wasn't entirely prepared for that big of an explosion. So when my left sleeve caught on fire, needless to say I freaked out. There was crying, screaming, and God knows there was swearing.

"Logan! Get it off, get it off!" I certainly didn't make it easy for him to help with my running around like a maniac. Finally he got a hold of me and was able to put the fire out, but not before I received a lovely burn on my left shoulder. Great…one last parting shot courtesy of Stryker and his damn plane.

As we were in the middle of the jungle, we couldn't treat the burn until we arrived in the capital of Abuja. For the rest of my days I would have that mark, reminding me constantly of my sins against God and against humanity. I hoped I would escape with only that, but unfortunately people like Logan and me are never that lucky.


	5. Chapter 5

Southern Minnesota, 2001…

"Girls! Come on now, I need to get lunch ready," I ordered. The three girls I was in charge of probably would have listened better if I hadn't been laughing so hard. I just couldn't help myself. Under Lydia's command, the other two tickle attacked me as I tried to decide what to prepare for lunch. Lydia was eleven; double digits were impressive to her younger sisters. Daisy was almost there at the age of nine, but poor Greta was only four.

"Girls, I'm serious!" I shouted between bouts of laughter. "I'll tell your mother!" Joanne was a truly amazing woman. She had been raising these three lovely, yet rather rambunctious girls since her fail of an ex-husband abandoned them.

Lydia laughed and replied, "Yeah, sure Nora…Mom will probably join in!" I sighed as much as I could as they tickled me mercilessly. They were right. Joanne was the type of mother who would choose to play with her children over telling them what to do. And it was all in good fun.

"You had better surrender or else this will only get worse for you!" cried Daisy.

"Yeah!" agreed Greta.

Giving in to the game, I cried out, "You'll never take me alive!" With that I made a grab for Greta and ran from the two older girls. She screamed in joy as she squirmed.

As we ran around and around the kitchen and living room with Greta thrown over my back, the doorbell rang. Lydia immediately stopped and screamed, "I've got it! "

I stopped running and Daisy immediately grabbed onto my leg and sat on my foot. "Lydia, no! You know the rules…I'll get the door." I wobbled over to her. After setting down Greta, she quickly followed her sister's lead and sat onto my other foot while holding that leg. I heard the door open, and I said once more, "Lydia, no!"

I finally reached the now open door, and after trying desperately to pry off my two leg weights I looked up. "I'm sorry, what can I-" I stopped. I remember the terror that ripped through my body as if it were a lightning bolt. I could hardly believe the man standing in front of me was there, actually standing in front of me. I didn't know what to do. What did he want? How did he find me? And more importantly, who would follow his lead?

"Hey, "Logan said. He spoke as if we were neighbors and he needed a cup of sugar. I couldn't believe it.

"Lydia, take your sisters downstairs," I ordered. The tone in my voice caused the two younger girls to finally let go.

"But, Nora, we-"

"What did I just say?" I asked coldly, never taking my eyes from Logan's face. "I will not tell you twice." I heard all three grumbling, but they finally headed down to the basement.

I continued staring at Logan, until he spoke again. "Nora? What's that about?" he chuckled.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked softly. He opened his mouth to answer, but I quickly cut him off. "No, I don't even want to know. I want you to leave. Now." I glared at him, tears forming in my eyes. I couldn't believe he would jeopardize me and this family I had come to adore, by tracking me down.

"Nadya, I need to talk-," he pushed. But I stopped him again.

"No!" I exclaimed. "Are you mad? You need to leave. Don't come back, don't contact me, don't even think about me. God damn it, Logan…"

He stared at me for a few moments. I opened my mouth to tell him once more to leave, but he spoke over me. "Nadya, you can send me away, but know this, I will not leave until you talk to me. That's a promise." I glared at him, hurt that we would put me in this position. I tried to shut the door, but he moved his foot into the way. I felt a tear run down my cheek. I could hear the girls coming back up the stairs, regrouped and ready to argue with me. I gave Logan a pleading look, but he remained unwavering.

I glanced back toward the stairs and turned toward Logan. "Fine…come back tomorrow after dark. Come through the back patio." And with that I slammed the door shut on my once closest friend.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day…

It's truly amazing what utter terror can do to a girl. I had lain awake all night, dreading my meeting with Logan. I had no clue as to what he wanted, and frankly I didn't care. The news of Bradley's death just a few weeks earlier had nearly caused me to pack up and leave. I scanned the newspapers and internet daily out of fear that I would miss some clue as to what would happen to me.

I couldn't tell Joanne of my fears, because she had no idea who I was. Two years living in the same house and she hardly knew me. Oh she knew I had no family, but she didn't know why. It also didn't take her long to realize I didn't technically belong in the States. Whenever she and the girls traveled to Canada to visit her ex husband Andy's mother, I stayed behind. If they went on vacation out of country, I also stayed home. I knew I could leave the country easily enough, but returning…that would be another experience entirely.

No. I was on my own. My alarm went off at six thirty and I stared blankly at my untouched bed. I walked into my attached bath and started my morning routine, trying to relax. If I was in real trouble, it wouldn't be Logan coming here. It would be Creed, so I should be grateful.

After my shower I slipped into a yellow pencil skirt and pulled white sweater over my head. I would wait for my hair to dry, so I headed upstairs from my basement bedroom to prepare breakfast. Just as I finished brewing a fresh pot of coffee Joanne came down the stairs still in her pajamas, her long brown hair piled on top of her head.

"Mmm, coffee coffee coffee!" she exclaimed excitedly, pouring herself a cup. "Thanks Nora."

"No problem Jo," I answered. I plastered a fake smile onto my face as I started breakfast.

"Oh my God, aren't you dying? It's already eighty degrees out," she exclaimed. She was referring to my sweater, already clinging to my body in the morning heat. I rolled my eyes.

"It's not too bad…honest," I replied.

Lie.

"Anyway, I like the heat," I added with a shrug.

Lie.

Jo raised her eyebrows. "Sweetie, I know you're self conscience, but I promise you it is not nearly as bad as you think it is." Yes it was. It was hideous and everyone who saw it, knew it. I had to look had it when I showered or dressed, but I ignored it whenever humanly possible.

"Thanks, Jo…but I'm fine. If it gets too hot, I'll change," I lied.

Jo sighed and replied, "No you won't. I have never once seen you wear a t-shirt and I highly doubt I ever will." I smiled and nodded. "But I've seen that scar, Nora, and I've seen worse…whatever happened…it's over. You can't keep living in the past." She had crossed the line and was getting to close to the P word. I quickly changed the subject.

"So what's the plan for today?" In reality, I knew the plan. It was the same every second Saturday of the month.

She sighed once more before finally giving in to the end of our previous conversation. "The usual. The girls and I will head out around ten. We'll get to Winnipeg around six. And we'll come back Tuesday night same time," she explained between sips from her coffee mug. "You sure you won't join us this time. Alice would be thrilled to finally meet you." I stayed silent as I smiled down at the eggs sizzling in the pan. I didn't have to say anything, the invitation was tradition at this point, and she knew I wouldn't go with. Though I must admit, it would have been nice.

"How much longer til breakfast? Should I drag the little angels out of bed?" she laughed.

"Nah, I'll just set the table and I'll get them," I answered. "Oh and here's today's paper, Twins won."

"Oh fantastic! That Mauer sure is a looker, isn't he?" I looked over at her smile as I finished placing the silverware.

"Jo! He's a few years older than me, you cradle robber," I teased.

"Oh shut up! I'm not even thirty yet," she cried, a feigned look of upset on her face. It was true. She had had Lydia when she was only sixteen, so she was rather young compared to the other mothers in the neighborhood. "Hey I'll put the food out, while you get the girls."

I began heading upstairs when I heard a sigh. "Nora, what's wrong?" Jo asked seriously.

_Shit,_ I thought. _How does she know everything? _

"What're you talking about?" I asked innocently, reentering the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open and Jo was staring at me pointedly.

"Three pies, Nora?" she asked in a concerned manner. "Did you sleep at all?" I sighed and shook my head.

"Sorry, Jo," I answered softly.

"It's fine, just tell me what's wrong," she said, walking over to me. She knew me well. The more upset or stressed I was, the more I baked. Two weeks ago, after reading about Bradley's death, I made two pans of brownies, three batches of chocolate chip cookies, one cherry pie, and two strawberry rhubarb pies. Hey, we all have our coping mechanisms, right?


	7. Chapter 7

By the time evening arrived, I was so nervous that I could barely sit still. I had spent hours cleaning the house, all the while wondering what Logan could possibly want from me. It had to have something to do with Bradley. He's found murdered in his trailer and two weeks later, Logan shows up? It can't be a coincidence. Maybe he just wanted to make sure I was all right…but then again, he wouldn't have had to talk to me to see that I'm fine.

Was there something I didn't know about? That I had missed in my careful observations and meticulous notes. No…I refused to believe I had been so careless as to miss something important with my old team. I ran down to my bedroom and flung open my closet. Moving my box of winter clothes out of the way, I felt for the secret latch I had installed in the back of the wall. I opened the small space and pulled the small trunk out into the open of my room.

I knew I was alone in the house, but that didn't stop me from turning around and locking the bedroom door and closing the curtains, encasing myself completely. I pulled my hair out of my face and piled it onto my head. I took a deep breath and slowly opened the trunk, pulling the first of the seven files. This one, labeled "Stryker, William" with a thick black marker, terrified me just as much as the actual man had.

Stryker hadn't done much to cause alarm since mine and Logan's abandonment of the mission six years ago, but I still kept an eye on him and his career, including his advancement to General. The second file was labeled "North, David." Agent Zero had stuck close to Stryker over the past six years since the dissimilation of the X-Team. The team hadn't remained together long after mine and Logan's departure.

"Good riddance," I muttered to myself, setting the second file off to my side. Next I took out John Wraith's and Fred Dukes' folders. Those two were together in Nevada, just outside Vegas where John ran a gym and boxing ring. Fred was…well Fred was working out. I chuckled as I flipped Fred's file open to the picture I had acquired a few years ago. Oh how the mighty had fallen. In a span of six years, Fred "I'm so tough" Dukes had gone from 280 lbs with 2%body fat, to nearly 600 lbs and nothing but body fat. Those two never did anything of interest either. Logan was the same way. I pulled out his folder and threw it lazily onto the pile. I had his memorized at that point.

I was glad he had found happiness with someone he cared about, just as I had done. From the pictures I had collected, I liked the look of Kayla Silverfox. She was pretty, Native American obviously, and apparently smart. Maybe they would get married, I thought. I smiled at the idea, but for some reason I couldn't see Logan in a tux with kids and a house in the suburbs.

As I began putting everything back in its place, I heard a deep voice call from upstairs.

"Nadia?" It was so weird to hear my real name again. I hoped I wouldn't get used to it.


	8. Chapter 8

"What did you expect Logan? A hug and tears for joy at the sight of you?" I asked skeptically, placing a slice of pie in front of my old friend.

"You know, I kind of did…the hug I mean." He smiled at me and honestly, I couldn't help but smile back. I still loved him…after six years without a word, I still loved him. He was my family…as sick as that was. I watched in silence as he dug into the pie. I slipped another piece in front of him as he quickly finished the first. "When did you learn how to cook?" he asked with a chuckle. He stopped short and frowned. So I was right, something was wrong.

"Bake," I corrected wiping the counter free of crumbs. "There's a subtle difference, and Joanne asked me to learn. She's terrible," I giggled, thinking of her past attempts at cookies.

"My mistake," Logan answered. I watched him eat in silence and when he finished, he washed his own plate in the sink. I shook my head; he had always been polite. "So you happy here? Good family?" he asked slowly. I couldn't believe it, but he was actually concerned about my life here.

I smiled, "Yes. Joanne is wonderful; her girls are sweethearts…and no killing people. That's probably the best part." Logan returned my smile, placing the clean plate on the countertop.

"But Nora? That really necessary?"

I sighed. "When I left you, I did everything I could to disappear Logan. I lost the name, the accent, and I never stopped moving. Meeting Joanne was not part of plan, but I couldn't help it. She cared about me in a way I only remember from my mother…and you. I stayed and now I've been here for two years. Bad choice obviously, because here you are." I couldn't help but glare in Logan's direction. He had, after all, shown up with no warning.

"Look, I'm sorry I freaked you out, but I did make sure to cover my tracks," he assured me.

"I'm sure you did, I answered doubtfully. "But let's move to the business at hand…why are you here?"

"Stryker." He gave me a hard look as I took a deep breath.

"Shall we sit?" I led him into the living room and closed the curtains. I didn't needed whispers of a strange man in the house to get back to Jo. I sat down in front of the fireplace, my preferred spot and folded my legs beneath me. I gestured toward a chair, but Logan sat down in front of me.

"What about Stryker?"

"He fucked me for the last time," he told me, a growl in his voice.

"You've seen him?" I replied with shock. When had this happen? How did I miss it?

"He came to see me, him and Zero. He's still an asshole in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't." I knew he was still up to his old hobbies. "What did they want?"

"A warning…about Creed. He killed Bradley, Nora." So I was right. Creed was behind the gruesome murder. What a way to die.

"To be honest, I figured it was him." He looked at me in confusion so I explained, "I read about the death a few weeks ago."

"Yeah? Did you read about Wade's then?" Now I was confused.

"Wade?" Logan must be joking.

"Him too," Logan confirmed, eyeing my closely. "You didn't think he was invincible, did you?" Honestly, I kind of had. It was true, I hadn't heard anything about the mercenary for a few months, but that was just it. He was a mercenary. He disappeared off my radar sometimes. I turned my face toward the fire. I couldn't bear for Logan to see me mourning Wade Wilson of all people.

"Wade…"

He reached to pat my shoulder awkwardly.

"It's fine…but that doesn't tell me why you're here. Stryker…Creed what do they have to do with you and what the hell do they have to do with me?"

"Creed killed Kayla." I froze. My mind reeled with this revelation. I had obviously grown careless in a magnitude that was terribly dangerous for me and all those I cared about.

"Kayla?" I asked. I didn't need Logan knowing about hobby. He stared at me; did I see tears in his eyes?

"You know who Kayla is." It wasn't a question. Denial. Plan B was now in motion: deny everything.

"Logan, I have no idea what you're talking about…and you still haven't told me why you're here," I repeated, hoping he would leave the topic alone.

"This." And it was then I learned what Stryker had done to him. From each hand shot three metal blades, glinting in the firelight.

My mouth opened. "What the Hell is that?" I asked in a whisper. I reached out to touch one, but Logan stopped me.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…I cut through a sink a few days ago," he chuckled.

"You cut through- Never mind…what happened to you?" I could scarcely take my eye off the metal claws in front of me. Thankfully he retracted them back into his hands. Rubbing his knuckles he explained. Logan confronted Creed after Kayla was murdered, and Stryker found him. He offered Logan a chance for vengeance…a chance to beat Creed. Of course he took that opportunity, I would have. In a base, deep in the Canadian forests, Stryker did this to my friend. He was a man made of metal: truly indestructible.

When Logan finished his story, we sat in silence. What could I say to comfort him? He had lost what I had lost, how ironic. At this point, I didn't even have to ask. I knew what Logan wanted: Stryker. I made him ask though, I needed him to. I waited.

"Where is Stryker?" I grinned at Logan's perpetual predictability.

"What makes you think I know where Stryker is?" I asked. I honestly wished I knew, just to help this broken man in front of me.

"Because…someone who is as afraid as you of being found would want to keep an eye on those who may be looking for her." He said this so matter-of-factly, I only stared. He knew me, just as he had always known me.

"Find Zero and you'll find Stryker," I told him. By this time I was eager to be done with this visit and send Logan on his way. I couldn't explain why Logan's presence made me uneasy, but it did. He brought all the memories of my previous life with him, and frankly, I did not appreciate the unwelcome recollections.

"Zero's dead-"

"Well I can't help you anymore than that. It's not my fault you killed the man closest to Stryker." I stood up completely ready to show Logan the door. There was obviously more happening than I had realized and I had some serious thinking to do.

"Nadia-" Logan responded, urgency layered in his voice.

"No, I'm sorry Logan I can't help you."

"Nadia, I'm-"

"Stop talking. You had your say and now we're done. I can't help you." I was desperate to make him leave. I didn't see his attack coming. He grabbed my wrist and flung me against the dining room wall. "What the-?" I couldn't believe it.

"You listen to me. I asked nicely, but now I'm being serious, so pay attention." I merely glared as I tried to wrestle my small hands from his grip on them above my head. How dare he attack me like that?

"I have nothing left. Kayla's gone…one of very few people to truly care for me. You hate me and want nothing to do with me." I turned my eyes to the ground rather than admit my feelings. "Stryker turned me into a science experiment and Viktor…Viktor betrayed me in a way I never thought possible. I want their heads, and I'm not leaving here until I find out where the fuck they are hiding."

I felt his breath on my face as I debated how to best respond. If I hadn't been in Jo's house I would have blasted the son of a bitch away, but I was so I couldn't. "Let go of me…" I whispered turning back to face him.

"Nadia, I'm-"

"I know you're serious, and so the fuck am I!" I shouted. "Now let me go…now." I could see the wheels turning in Logan's head but he finally released me. No sooner did I have control of my arms did slap him across the face. I ignored my stinging hand.

"If you ever touch me like that again James Howlett Logan, I will kill you." He started to open his mouth but I shushed him. "I don't know where Viktor is…and if Stryker isn't in Washington, I don't know where he is either."

"If you're scared, I'll protect you…please tell-" I couldn't believe how desperate Logan was. He had changed so much.

"I said "I" don't know where they are Logan," I repeated. "But I know someone who might."

* * *

"If Viktor Creed was capable of having friends, Fred Dukes would have been one of them," I explained. "Maybe he mouthed off a bit…I don't know, you'll have to find out for yourself." He looked at the file I handed to him with a raised eyebrow.

"You have been observant, haven't you?" I heard the joking manner in his voice, but neither of us had the energy to laugh anymore, so I chose to ignore the comment.

"You can stay here for the night…take my room," I offered. "But you'll have to leave in the morning. I'll set out some breakfast and some money, don't bother arguing; it's the least I can do." Logan started to argue but he stopped after seeing the look on my face.

"Nadia, thank you for-"

"You speak as if you gave me a choice…" He silenced himself and turned away. Before I shut the door, I spoke once more. "I want you gone before I wake up." With that I shut the door and left my old friend to his thoughts.

* * *

I didn't sleep much that night…again. So far, this was my biggest problem with Logan: the stressed induced insomnia. I stayed in Daisy's room that night. I would have been more comfortable in Lydia's bed, but Daisy was neater. I would never tell anyone, but she was also my favorite. As I lay in the too small bed, my eyes strayed to the row of pink elephants I had painted for Daisy around her ceiling.

_What should I do?_ I thought. On one hand I was scared to death by Logan's vendetta against Stryker and what it could mean for my life here. On the other, I wanted to be the one to kill Stryker myself. Should I go with him? Should I just disappear? She I let Logan walk out the door tomorrow morning and pretend he never showed up? That night, I dreamt of pink elephants.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hey thank you for your patience. Life has been a little hairy lately, but I hope to really start writing more now. Ps I realise I reference Lady Gaga despite this being little earlier than her debut, but considering it's not a major point...let's ignore haha. Thank you for the reviews!

* * *

The next day…

My car, technically Jo's car that would be mine if I had a license or insurance or a source of income, was all gassed up and ready to go. My suitcase was packed; I had even packed a small bag of Jo's ex's things for Logan. Some may say I was crazy, but really…was I supposed to just let him walk away? Was I supposed to abandon him when he needed me? I may have done some bad things, but I wasn't a bad person. I knew where my loyalties laid.

I had written a note for Jo and the girls. I explained that if I didn't return, they shouldn't look for me and if I did return…they should get rid of me themselves. I apologized for the secrets and for the lies. I promised they would never be in danger because of me again. Finally, I signed the note Nadezhda…Jo would understand.

I was sitting at the kitchen table when Logan finally came up the stairs and looked at me in surprise. "I'm gone, I swear," he assured me, heading toward the patio.

"Logan, the car's this way," I replied, nodding toward the garage.

"I'm not stealing your car," he snorted as I rolled my eyes.

"Of course you're not," I said raising an eyebrow, "because I'm driving."

* * *

I know a lot of people don't like long car trips. Between the gas, the lack of things to do, and the odd constant need to pee, they're a big hassle. But I like them. I like driving. Especially in the summer when the windows are down, the music is loud, and I don't have to think about anything. So here, as strange as it was with Logan riding shotgun and nodding his head in time with Lady GaGa, I was at ease.

The drive started out pretty awkward. I didn't put on any music because I didn't know what he liked. I didn't say anything, because frankly I didn't know what to say. "Hey pal, how much weight did you gain with all that metal shoved inside you" probably wasn't the way to go. About an hour into the drive, however, I learned Logan didn't possess the same skill of polite avoidance of certain topics that I had.

"Did you ever contact your mother?" he asked out of the blue. I nearly choked on the coke I was sipping at the time.

"Seriously?" I asked, trying to recover myself. "Is this really what we are going to talk about? Because if so…"

"Sorry, we'll talk about something else," he replied quickly, obviously surprised by my reaction. I ignored the apology as thoughts quickly turned to my mother. Truth was; I had looked for her. I found several hackers during my time between the old life and the new and they proved useful to me. I was able to trace her stay in a hospital outside the town I was born in. She was transferred to a bigger hospital in Yaroslavl after the discovery of extensive internal bleeding. She died after only two days on the operating table. I had my own reasons for tracking down Stryker, and I was in no hurry to explain that to Logan.

"So…" he tried again. "Any boys?" I almost choked again, but for an entirely different reason. I started laughing for the first time since Logan had come back into my life. At my reaction, he smiled.

"What?" he asked with a chuckle. "I'm serious! You said you were in that same place for two years…"

"Boys are hardly on my list of priorities. Oh my God," I laughed. I shook my head.

"Ahhh come on, you're a good looking kid…skinny…but you're what seventeen? Eighteen?" he asked. I rolled my eyes at his comment about my weight as I pulled off to a rest area. That's what Jo had always told me too.

"I'm twenty, moron. And I'm not saying no one's been interested…I just haven't been interested back," I answered as we both stepped out of the car and stretched.

"You're a girl…" Honestly, all men are and always will be the same.

"Not like most girls Logan. I didn't grow up wishing for a prince like in the Disney movies…I didn't even know what Disney was until I was sixteen. I didn't get to go shopping and scope out boys with the girls…I had you." He rolled his eyes as he headed for the restrooms. Seriously, the man had the bladder the size of a walnut. I walked over to the map and smiled, knowing we would reach Vegas my nightfall.

I wondered how John would react to seeing me. I know he liked me a lot like Logan did, but while Logan actually sought me out…I would be a huge surprise to John. And Dukes. I squirmed at the thought of the man. Hopefully I'd be able to squeeze in a few fat jokes when I saw him. And if he tried to hit me, I swear I would have blown him away.

When Logan returned, I hurried us back on to the interstate, determined to make our destination with no more stops. Needless to say, as soon as we reached the city, Logan ordered me to stop at the nearest gas station.


	10. Chapter 10

Here's another update guys! Next chapter will finally bring John and Dukes into the picture.

* * *

"I want to go now." Logan was pacing again. I remained silent, laying in one of the beds provided in the run down motel we stopped at. I had convinced Logan we should wait until the next day to see John and Dukes, but just barely. I knew he wanted to go-go-go nonstop, but I was tired and quite frankly, I needed to work up the will.

"This is stupid, why wait?" I rolled my eyes and set down the Cosmo Logan had grabbed for me at the last gas station. Apparently girls love it. I repositioned myself so I was resting on my elbows when Logan turned to face me once more. "You can't be comfortable anyway…" He gestured to the stained carpet and the sketchy bathroom neither of us were brave enough to shower in.

"Logan, just sit down," I sighed motioning to the second bed. He grumbled, but obeyed. "John isn't going anywhere between now and morning, so why don't you just relax a little?" He glared, but laid his head back onto the pillow. I nodded and turned back to my magazine, hoping for a little quiet. And that's when I heard it. The unrelenting pounding from the room next door and the incessant squeaking of a bed.

I glanced at Logan who was trying to conceal a smile. I through my pillow at him, but he merely laughed. "Hey! You picked the motel with an hourly rate," he chuckled. I groaned and stood up from my own bed. I pulled the blanket with me to cover myself (every time I travel, I never fail to forget my pajamas and so once more had to settle for bra and underwear) and faced the wall. Before Logan could react I was banging my fist on the wall screaming for silence from the other side.

I swear to God, the noises got louder. How rude. "Nadia, what the Hell are you doing?" Logan cried, jumping up and pulling my arms back. "Leave them alone." I glared at him and kicked the wall once more.

"If that keeps up, I'm not going to be able to sleep!" I shouted, pointing at the wall.

"Come on, it's not a big deal," Logan replied pulling me down next to him.

"Yes it is Logan! Here I am just doing my own thing and then they come along to ruin my night because they're selfish!" I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. "It's like they don't even care we're trying to sleep here, they're just going to do whatever they want no matter how it affects our lives!" I was actually sobbing into Logan's shoulder at this point and needless to say he was confused at my over the top reaction to our neighbors.

"Nadia, I don't-"

"It's not fair Logan that they can do whatever they want – to whoever they want – with no consequences! I mean doesn't it matter what I want?" I could feel Logan patting my hair, trying his hardest to comfort me.

"Are we still talking about the two next door?" he asked when I finally quieted down enough for him to speak clearly. I laughed, tears still rolling down my cheeks. "Because if we are…I can go talk to them. If we aren't…don't worry, I'll take care of that too." I wiped my eyes and lifted my face to meet his warm gaze.

"Promise?" I whispered. He flashed me a small grin and nodded. I stood and moved over to my own bed; the one slightly less stained. Before Logan even had a chance to turn out the lights, I was already out.

* * *

The next morning, I woke to find Logan already gone. At first I thought he had abandoned me here to this horrid motel of horror, but I quickly spotted his leather jacket on the bed. I didn't recognize it from our earlier years, so he must have acquired sometime between then and his coming to finding me again. He seemed incredibly fond of it…a gift from his girlfriend perhaps?

I decided to risk using the shower, praying it was cleaned before Logan and I arrived. Despite the discomforting cracks and stains in the shower, the warm water felt good after two days of driving. As soon as I finished cleaning up, I returned to the main room and locked the door as I dressed.

Quickly I realized how smart I was to choose Minnesota to settle down in over anywhere in the south. The heat was a thousand times worse in Nevada, I only thanked God it was dry opposed to humid. I dug through my bag and found a pair of cutoff denim short shorts I had never before had use for and pulled them on. I grimaced at the amount of leg I was showing and was relieved the little girls had never seen me like this. I dug through the bag and found my favorite baseball tee (three quarter sleeves thank you very much) and pulled it on. I usually saved it for when I was alone at home so as not to reveal too much skin in front of others, but with the still rising temperature outside, I allowed me the revealing top. I placed a hand over my bare midriff and cringed. I was really skinny…

While I waited for Logan to return I lay back down on my bed and played a bit with my powers. I hadn't used them often for the past two years for fear of being seen, but now I figured I should pull out my old bag of tricks. Who knew what we would be faced with in the coming days?

I placed my hair brush flat on the bed and concentrated on creating a force field between it and the bed. My goal? Catch it when it popped into the air. Apparently I didn't know my own strength, because instead of raising it slowing of the bed, the brush flew at my face and cracked me upside the head.

"Motherf-!" I muttered. Obviously, I was a little off my game. I continued practicing this same way until a heard a loud rumble from outside the room. I pulled back the blinds and groaned at the sight before me.

Logan had decided to surprise me outside the motel with a worn out old motor cycle. I merely gaped as I stepped outside into the glaring sun. There was no way I was sitting on such a death trap. He, however, had a smile wider this face would allow. He had told me during the car ride how he loved motorcycles, but I hadn't expected him to get one, especially right now.

"I'm not driving into Las Vegas in a yellow bug," he explained, noting the incredulous look on my face. "Anyway, now we look like we mean business," he added in an afterthought.

"No no no," I replied shaking my head. And since when does motorcycle equal business. "This is bullshit Logan, we are taking the car. I'm not risking my life so you can get your thrills."

He laughed, "But you'll risk your life by finding Creed?" I closed my mouth. Honestly the motorcycle was probably safer. I stepped closer to the bike, eyeing it warily.

"No speeding, okay?" He nodded and handed me the lone helmet. I took it tentatively and then gasped, "Logan what about all our shit?" God only a few days with him and I was turning into a potty mouth. I needed to work on that. He quickly explained he had paid for the room for another night and we would come back after seeing John. I nodded as he flung one leg over the monstrous bike. I tried to follow suit, but my shorts had different ideas.

"Maybe jeans would be more appropriate?" he suggested avoiding looking at my legs. I scowled and finally got myself situated behind Logan.

"It's 90,000 degrees Logan, I'm fine," I felt him shrug as he started forward. I gave a small scream and clutched my arms around his waist. He laughed as we pulled out onto the main road.

"Nadia, I've seen you jump out of planes, face off against full on assassins, and not to mention kill…how are you afraid of this?" I spit my hair out my mouth and rested my body against his back, ignoring the question. How could I answer a question I didn't even know the answer too?


	11. Chapter 11

Hey everyone, I know it's been ages since I last updated, but I've had so much going on. It feels good though to have another chapter up. I already know how my next chapter will be so hopefully it will be up soon. Thanks for reading guys, I love it!

* * *

"Do you think he'll remember me?" I questioned softly as we stared up at the sandy building in front of us. There wasn't much to see, but I couldn't help thinking it was cool that John owed the place. "I mean…you look the same obviously," I giggled. "But do I?"

Logan shook his head and sighed. "Honestly, when I first started looking for you…I was picturing that little girl we picked up in Russia. I barely recognized you myself." I nodded. Maybe I would hang back a little, see what John made of me. I followed Logan as he led the way into the dimly lit lobby. The main desk sat unmanned so we peeked through the window partitioning the lobby from the actual gym.

There he was. I gasped when I saw he looked exactly the same. More interestingly, he was wearing the cowboy hat I stole from one of the buildings we raided while I was still pretty young. I gave him the hat and told him it was a present for being nice to me. I couldn't believe he still had it…

Logan pushed open the door and held back from John. Neither of us were particularly excited to disturb him in his self made life here. Finally, John seemed to sense our eyes and turned, staring only at Logan. We stood there in silence for a few moments before John turned to a man next to him and whispered something. He then turned back to us, nodded for us to follow him. When we all reached his office, he offered Logan a huge smile. I suddenly felt guilty as I remembered how I greeted Logan.

"Well God damnit…James Logan," John greeted, pulling him into a man hug. "I don't believe it."

"Good to see you to John, you're looking good," Logan replied gesturing around the office. "Sorry to drop in unannounced, but-"

"Hey I'm surprised you didn't come sooner, we've been hearing things," John explained, eyeing me warily. Logan was right, he didn't recognize me. I concealed the sadness in my eyes, looking at my cowboy boot covered feet.

Logan noted the discomfort and John's apprehension to talk in front of "a stranger" and let out a deep laugh. Stepping away from our old teammate, Logan grabbed my small hand in his own and pulled me forward. I gave a small smile while John only looked on in confusion. "I never picked you for the type to ignore an old friend, John."

"You should talk, you gonna introduce me to your pretty friend?" he asked taking my hand and giving a little bow. I giggled at the whole situation in front of me.

"Hello John. It's me…" I felt his hand tighten as his eyes searched my own.

Suddenly it all clicked. "God, Nadia? I don't believe it…"

"Bingo," I replied moving forward to kiss his cheek. "I guess I really have changed," I smiled. John was looking me up and down and he whistled.

"Last time I saw you, you were just a little kid, you look amazing!" he laughed pulling me into a fierce hug. I felt myself melt into his chest as I took in the familiar scent of smoke, beer, and the same shampoo he had used back when I was a little girl.

"Yeah and last time I saw you," I responded, "you had a really big gun." He laughed at my lame joke just as he always had and he hugged me again. "It's really good to see you John." It was amazing how much I missed him and hadn't even realized it.

"I have to say little girl, I'm surprised this one got you roped into this mess again. "What's up with that man?" I hardly believed it, but John actually looked angry at Logan, but the look seemed to dissipate as soon as it came.

Logan was quick to defend himself while I shook my head at John's accusations. "Hey man, I only went to her for information…she pretty much threw me in her car when I went to leave her house-"

I chuckled as John held up a hand to cut off our friend. "You have a house? Damn Nadia…you've done all right I guess, how did that happen?" Before I even had a chance to respond, Logan started spilling the story of how he found me and how I've been living for the past couple years. I thought John was ready to piss himself at the thought of me being a nanny.

"You keep them in line with a good old round house kick to the head?" he laughed. I merely shook my head again and moved to sit on the couch in front of John's desk. I felt myself close my eyes as the two continued talking and catching up. I tried to ignore Logan as he once more told his story about Stryker and his late girlfriend. It wasn't until a good twenty minutes later when Logan whispered to John that I still suck my thumb in my sleep that I contributed to the conversation at all with a good flip of one particular finger. I opened my eyes as they roared in laughter.

"Oh come on Nadia, it's cute," Logan chuckled. "Probably even cuter now that you're all grown up. You're still just the same little snot we picked up in Russia." I rolled my eyes as the two older men clanked beers at my expense. Men…honestly.

"Look, I don't mean to rush," I started, "but we are here for a reason, remember?" Both men immediately nodded and set their beers on the nearby desk. "Seriously, I doubt Freddy will be as pleased to see us as you John," I added. John nodded.

"Yeah he really doesn't like you much Logan. But Nadia is right, if anyone knows anything, it will be Dukes. But listen…he's come down with a bit of an eating disorder, so don't stare and uhh…don't make any comments about his weight. I have to work with this guy." I giggled, actually excited to see just how bad Fred had become. And believe me, I wasn't leaving that gym without getting at least two cracks in. It was the least I could do for all the bullshit he had put me through when I was a kid.

Logan and I followed John downstairs and got to the ring just in time to watch Fred punch a guy into the far wall. "Holy shit!" Logan muttered, both eyes on the incredible mass of flesh in front of us. "What the Hell have you been feeding him?" I must say all joy I had expected to feel at the sight of the once super strong man was gone. This was just gross.

His shirt didn't even cover all the rolls in his stomach and his neck was fatter than his own head. I stifled the urge to vomit as the sweat ran down his body while he turned to face us. I saw the anger form on his face just after noticing Logan. He obviously failed to recognize me too. "Remember guys, stay cool," John murmured. We both nodded, but before I could even stop myself I was shouting at the man before.

"Jesus you got fat!" I watched as his mega large slushee fell from his hands and John slapped a hand to his face. I heard Logan release a snort, while he turned to hide his face. I remained still as Fred took one thunderous step toward me, glaring all the while.

"Come here and say that to me, you little bitch," he ordered, cracking his neck. I snorted and rolled my eyes.

"You trying to intimidate me, Big Guy? You're going to have to do a lot worse than that." He growled while John went to step between the two of us. I pushed him out of the way as I moved closer to one of the people who used to give me nightmares. "I'm not the scared little girl you used to slap around, Freddy." I don't know when I decided I was going to get my revenge on Fred, but I knew I was shocked at my boldness. I think the others were too.

I watched as everything started clicking into place for Fred Dukes. Slowly a leer grew on his monstrosity of a face. "Damn Nad-ye-zhda," he began, saying my name slowly. "You turned into a decent piece of ass. Maybe we should have picked you up a few years later…or at least made sure to keep you around a little longer." I rolled my eyes at his meaning. I felt Logan stiffen beside me. Obviously someone was just as protective as ever.

"Seriously, I know I would have appreciated you a whole lot more…you up for it?" That is when it happened. Logan was in the ring actually trying to punch out the unmovable blob of a man.

'Logan stop-" I cried, running toward my friend. While gross and perverse, I wasn't all that bothered by Fred's remarks. After all, I was a decent looking girl who had a life, while he was some morbidly obese asshole who probably couldn't get laid by a prostitute. I didn't want him to sit on my old friend and crush him before we got the chance for revenge.

John, however, had different ideas. "Let them be, little girl…maybe Fred will finally be able to release all that pent up aggression…Move around some Dukes, let him have it!" he shouted, turning his attention toward the ill-fated boxing match. I groaned as Fred stiff armed Logan and sent him sprawling toward our corner.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were enjoying this," he muttered to John who only chuckled. Logan stood up and shook his head, trying to clear it a little before rejoining the fray.

"Don't be such a girl Logan," I told him with a laugh. "You going to let some fat douche bag do this to you?" I asked raising an eyebrow. It was amazing how badly I wanted to see Logan take Fred down. Logan sighed and turned back toward Fred who in some miracle was actually hopping back and forth…sort of…as much as he could being his size. Logan stepped toward him and started talking.

"Now listen here Bub, I just-" Suddenly it was as if time came to a stop.

"Did you just call me blob?" Fred asked softly, his face turning red.

"Uh oh," John muttered shaking his head. I was confused, no such word had been said, except for in my mind. Without any warning, Fred's fist went flying and collided with Logan's chest. I cringed, turning into John's chest as Logan came flying back toward us.

As he struggled to stand, John bent low and asked him why he would call Fred blob. "I didn't call him blob, I said bub." He tried to catch his breath and when he finally did so, he stood up angrily. "This ends now," he stated. With that, he ran forward jumped higher than I thought possible for someone made of metal and clonked the man I would forever know as Blob right on the top of the head.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I'm so happy to have been put on so many story alerts! Thanks for your support guys. I didn't exactly like writing this chapter, but here you go. I am excited though to start the next one. Enjoy!

* * *

Have I mentioned how much I really dislike motorcycles? I thought once John decided to join Logan and me in our festivities we would have to revert back to my nice little car, but guess who owns a motorcycle? John Wraith of course. So once more, I found myself holding on to Logan for dear life, the only form of protection being a helmet far too large for my head. Because of the wind and the manner of transportation in general, I wasn't able to carry on a real conversation with either man, so I hunkered deeper into my jacket and locked my fingers together. I was not looking forward to this next leg of our journey…hopefully they chose a nicer hotel than I had previously.

In the meantime, I had little to do but go over all that had happened in the past five days. Our most recent conversation with Fred was foremost in my mind, so I closed my eyes and inhaled Logan's distinct scent as I tried to recall everything that had been said.

As soon as Logan thumped Fred on the head, the larger man was done. He could barely see straight and I wondered if he had received a concussion. Logan immediately moved close to Fred and shot out the metal blades forever lodged in his hands. "First of all bub," Logan began, "apologize to her." I shook my head in shock. Was this really going to be Logan's main concern? Someone needed to prioritize. But Fred sighed and mumbled something of an apology.

"No asshole…for everything." For a moment Fred look confused but finally he met my eyes.

"I am sorry, okay? You probably don't believe me, but know that you were one of us…the lucky ones." I frowned and stepped toward him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" It took all my will power not to slap him. How dare he tell me how lucky I was. I was kidnapped and watched those who meant the most to me die. Now I'm living under a false identity, once again, endangering those I care about. "What do you mean telling me how lucky I am?" I felt John's hand on my back and I turned toward him. "Are you hearing th-" I started, but John interrupted me.

"He's right, Nadia. I hate to say it, but he's right…" Logan stood up and wrenched his gaze from Fred's fallen figure. "We've done shit, man, I'm not proud of." He turned his gaze toward the floor and I could almost fell the shame rolling off him.

"What happened after we left, John?" Logan asked softly, eying me as a knelt down. I was quickly growing tired of all the mystery. What did happen that made John defend Fred's statements to me? What was it that made him so guilty?

"We hunted our own kind," he admitted finally. "There's a special place in Hell for the things we did, Logan." I stole a glance at Fred who was still sitting on the floor against one of the ring's corners. He didn't have the courage to meet my gaze so I focused back on John.

"I don't understand," I replied shaking my head. John swore and rubbed his forehead.

"Stryker said we were helping our country…putting away the bad ones, but they all started disappearing. They were experimenting on them Logan…"

Her Fred released a sigh, but John only chuckled gravely. "What? You never wondered what happened to them all?"

"I tried not to think about it!" Fred cried with a shudder. "Once you all left, Creed went nuts and Stryker let him. I wasn't about to get tangled up in that shit so I did what I was told and I kept my head down. And guess what? I survived. My number one goal and I made it. So fuck you and fuck them." We all stood in silence as Fred struggled to catch his breath and suddenly I felt very sorry for the man. Who would have thought that deep down he hated what he was doing almost as much as I did.

Kneeling down, I placed one hand on Fred's enormous arm and patted it softly. "Freddy," I started, but he ignored me. "Jesus, would you just look at me?" I cried forcefully. After a few moments his watery blue eyes met my dark brown ones. "Fred I'm not here to argue with you and believe it or not, I didn't come here to make fun of you. I'm here for one reason…the same reason Logan came to me. I want Stryker and I want him now.

"What they did to all those like us, they did to Logan and now everything that made him happy, just like everything that made me happy, is gone. Tell us what you know now and I swear to God I will never bother you again. Please." The silence was suffocating, but I stood my ground. Either Fred would help us or he wouldn't, but I wasn't going to beg.

And in the end, I didn't have too. He told us he had never heard where exactly all these experiments were being done or where the mutants were being kept, but he did hear one thing. Something about "The Island." While he had no idea what it meant, he knew about someone who would.

A few years ago, one of the mutants escaped and has been hiding out in New Orleans. Apparently he was known as quite the card player because the guard at The Island called him Gambit. His name though was Remy LeBeau and Remy LeBeau was the reason for this 27 hour trip to Louisiana. I swear to God, if this guy sent us to another person, or refused to help us in anyway, I would break his jaw. Frankly, I wasn't sure how much longer my lady parts would put up with Logan's motorcycle.


	13. Chapter 13

True or False? A person can fall asleep on the back of a motor cycle without falling to their gruesome and bloody demise. Well, here I sit, so true…obviously. One moment I was nestled into Logan's back trying to keep as warm as possible in the night air, and the next, I was being carried into our hotel room.

I barely registered what was going on, I was so tired, but I did manage to catch a few snippets of conversation.

"Maybe we should send her home…"

"Think this Gambit guy is too much?"

"She'd be pissed."

"…use her?"

I mostly remember thinking how much nicer this bed was to the previous hotel's and I almost didn't notice as Logan crawled into bed next to me. Now don't go turning that into something it wasn't. Everyone knows men can't bare the idea of sleeping together. Babies…

Anyway, the next morning I woke up, once again to an empty room. I yawned and stretched out my legs, painfully aware of the effect riding a motorcycle was having on my body. Standing up, I glanced around the room for some sign of my two companions. I flash of white had me moving toward the dresser and I found a short note:

**Hey we just went for some food. Be back in soon. Get cleaned up and we'll hit the road once you've eaten. –Logan**

I released one more yawn as I head for the bathroom. I grinned at the site in front of me. Jacuzzi…yum. I figured Stryker could wait one extra hour as I indulged in one of my all time favorite activities: soaking.

By the time we hit New Orleans it was only 4 in the afternoon. Fred hadn't given us a home address, but he had given us the name of a bar located in the very center of the French Quarter. And because no one in their right mind would go to a bar in the middle of the afternoon, the three of us had some time to kill. Logan paid for another hotel room, I think for my benefit, while he and John went walking through the streets looking for something to occupy themselves.

Despite my lovely bath earlier that morning, I decided to indulge in another seeing as how I had spent the last eight hours on a motorcycle. After turning the faucets, I quickly stripped down to my basics and for the first time since this whole adventure began took a good hard look at my shoulder.

The scars started at the very top of my left shoulder and spread to the center of my back at the base of my neck down to my left hip. I couldn't help but wonder if Stryker knew what escaping and destroying his plane had cost me. It may not seem like a lot, but I had missed out on a lot of things because of this burn. I never learned to swim because I didn't want to be seen in a bathing suit. I never wore tank tops for fear of the scars poking out. I never dated a guy because I knew close contact would lead to other deeds which would lead to awkward questions first about my scars and then about why I had them. I can deny it until the cows come home, but I am just as shallow as any other girl.

With a heavy sigh, I removed my remaining clothes and slid into the tub. Closing my eyes, I started wondering what Logan and John were getting up to. And before I knew it, I heard knocking on the bathroom door. My eyes flew open and moved to the clock. 8pm. I had been sleeping for almost three hours…in a freaking tub. Who does that?

"Come in!" I cried, pulling the ridiculous amount of bubbles toward my body. Logan stepped in, took one look at me, and immediately left the room again.

"What the Hell?" I heard him shout from the main room. "Put on a Goddamn shirt!" I rolled my eyes and stepped out of the tub reaching for a towel and then my robe.

Exiting the steamy bathroom, I raised an eyebrow. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked," I told him. He shook his head and muttered something about putting on a shirt again. John only laughed.

"Yeah," he replied, "when you were eight and couldn't function on your own. Now you're hot…and it's weird." I blushed at the hot comment. That was definitely not something I ever expected to hear about myself. As I started digging through my bag in search of clean clothes, I caught my two friends whispering together near the door. This seemed familiar and I couldn't help but find it funny. At age twenty, I hated being kept in the dark almost as much as I hated it at age thirteen.

"You guys want me to leave you alone, or you want to tell me what exactly you're planning?" I asked, motioning for them to turn around while I changed. They did so…such gentlemen they were. I waited patiently, while I did my "time to put jeans on after bathing" dance and I heard Logan sigh as if he wasn't all that thrilled to be including me. "Logan, you came to me, so don't try to exclude me now, because I swear to-"

"No, that's not it," he interrupted turning around and sitting on the far bed. "It's just…John has this idea and I'm not comfortable with it." Out of the corner of my eye, I caught John rolling his eyes. I crossed my arms over my now t-shirted chest as I wondered what this plan could be.

"It's not that bad," John assured me. "You would just be taking a more active role than Logan really wants." I crinkled my brow in confusion. We were just going to talk to the guy, weren't we? What sort of plan is needed other than choosing who's going to say "Hey sorry you were kidnapped, but now we want to know where Stryker is so we can fuck his shit up." It didn't seem that complex to me, but apparently I was somewhat out of it.

"You went to the restroom before you heard Dukes' last bit of information on our guy and apparently he's a bit of a ladies' man…" I widened my eyes as his words started to sink in. "We thought he might respond better to you…you know a pretty, non threatening type opposed to Logan who's intimidating as shit and me who know one can seem to take seriously. What do you think?" John finished lamely. During his little speech, Logan never took his eyes from the floor, shaking his head all the while.

"Logan…" I started as I sat next to him. "What's wrong?" He squeezed my hand and finally looked up at me.

"Nadia, we made you do some bad things, you know that." I nodded remembering some particularly hard jobs I was assigned. "Well one thing you never did, not once, was use your body for our advantage. I don't want you starting now." I blinked a few times wondering if I had indeed heard right. Was Logan worried about my womanly virtues?

"Logan," I explained disbelievingly. "I'm not going to have sex with him. I'm going to flirt with him a little. You think I've never flirted with a guy to get what I wanted? Last summer I convinced Jo's neighbor Rodd to mow the lawn for free just because he may have been under the impression I'd go to the next Star Craft Convention with him. You're hardly asking for the world here." It took all my will power not to start laughing. I knew Logan was serious about his concerns, but he really had no need to be. Not about that.

"It's different and you know it," he growled. "This guy is dangerous and you could get hurt."

"And so could you!" I shouted. I loved Logan, truly I did, but all this over protective bullshit was starting to wear on me. "I'm not a child anymore. I don't need you to protect me, but I do need you to trust me. Believe that I can and that I will help you Logan. If you let me, I can make this work and this will all be over soon. Now," I finished holding out me hand to both Logan and John, "what do you say?"

The two exchanged glances and eyed my hands. John smiled and grasped my left while Logan finally nodded and took my right. "Good," I responded. "Now, let's see what Cosmo can do for a little old assassin like me?" I smiled.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Hey all thatnks for all the favorites, I love it! Anyway hear is a new chapter. I felt like giving a little taste of Nadia's past so here we go. Next chapter we meet the ever fabulous Gambit (this kid's favorite male mutant...10 Awesome Kid Points for who can guess my favorite female mutant.) Enjoy!

* * *

I obviously never had much of a childhood when I was with Stryker. But I remember one occasion when I was twelve; I was used to gain access to and familiarity with a very private, very expensive boarding school in Southern France. Logan posed as my father and got me through the admittance process and Stryker made sure a lot of money entered the Headmaster's hands. It would be my job to locate and connect with one teacher: Elena Vadina Antonovna. She was suspected to be a former official of Soviet Russia and now was selling technology to other nations. But she is not the point of this story. CaraLee Von Titian is.

Well, I started school for the first time in my life and I fell utterly in love with everything about it. I loved the building, I loved the dining hall, I loved my teachers who actually seemed to like me, but most of all…I love the children. For the first time in three years I was around people my own age. I didn't make many friends, which wasn't really surprising. By that time, pretty much all my social skills were gone and there was a small incident involving my elbow and a boy's septum during my first school lunch. Despite my issues, however, one girl reached out to me.

When CaraLee first approached me, I was wary. I had little experience dealing with girls my own age, especially one so powerful as her. Obviously her father was the powerful one, but the children in the school seemed to hold on to the hierarchies and social structures of their parents. Anyway, after a few attempts to engage me in her own life, I finally opened up little by little. It was difficult, of course, balancing my time between learning how to be friends with CaraLee and my mission. Almost every waking moment was spent with her, making my actual mission rather difficult.

I quickly came to adore CaraLee in a way I never imagined. She was everything I wasn't and everything I wanted to be. She was fourteen and already a master at understanding the world around her. She was beautiful, smart, and absolutely in control of everything that happened around her. I was amazed she was so taken by me and so I let her take me under her wing and show me how happy I could be. She told me her secrets and I made secrets up to tell her just so she would think I was normal. She bought me gifts of clothes, jewelry, and stuffed animals. While I had nothing to give her in return, she seemed satisfied just by my reactions and my presence.

She spoke often of her family and I relished it. Her mother was head of a major charity organization while her father was a diplomat to a country I won't mention (top secret she told me.) She even had two younger siblings named Thomas and Audrey; they were twins and only three at the time. She often asked about my own family, but I never knew what to say. Most of the time I just talked about Logan in a very ambiguous manner, never actually calling him my father. She seemed to know, however, I wasn't being completely honest with her. She never pushed, though, and I loved her for it.

But one day everything changed. Stryker and Creed came to visit me, posing as my family, for an update on my assignment. Unfortunately I spent so much time with CaraLee; I hadn't done much in the way of learning about my target. Before they left, Stryker had ordered Creed to teach me what happens to his soldiers who waste time. I had never been in so much pain before. Creed clawed me good down my back, before almost choking me to death. When they finally left me alone I could only crawl to my bed and cry.

CaraLee found me and begged me to tell her what had happened. To this day, I don't know what came over me but I told her everything. I told her about my mother and my kidnapping. I told about Stryker and the Team. I even told her about why I was at the school and how I came to be in trouble. She was quiet for a long time after I finally finished my story. I wondered how she would react. Would she even believe me?

Eventually, CaraLee released a sigh and stared straight at me. Squeezing my hand she asked me, "How much longer are you here for?" I shook my head because I honestly didn't know. Maybe Stryker would say fuck it and take me out of school for my lack of effort.

"Well Nadia, we are going to figure something out, because you are not leaving this school with that asshole ever again," she stated forcefully pulling me into a hug. I felt myself sink into the embrace as she spoke again. "Even if we have to tell the whole school…"

Here I pulled away. "No. If he finds out I told you," I explained shaking my head again, "he will kill you…and probably me. Cara, you can't tell anyone about this. I shouldn't have said anything, but please promise me you will never talk about this ever again," I begged. She looked as if she would cry. I couldn't believe she cared so much for me.

"Fine," she finally agreed. "But promise me you'll try and think of a way to get away from them. We'll figure this out together…" I nodded without really believing I would ever escape. But she seemed content and that was enough for me.

The next day however, Stryker arrived with Logan and pulled me out of my Maths class. Not one word was said to the teacher, but she must have already known. I cried and I begged them not to take me away, but Stryker wouldn't listen. I asked for one more day so I could say goodbye, but he ignored me.

* * *

I never saw CaraLee again.

I wasn't sure what brought CaraLee to the forefront of my mind at that moment while I attempted to mentally preparing myself for meeting this strange mutant, but I was glad for it. CaraLee was part of my life when everything was at its worst and she made me better for having known her. I've often wondered where she ended up, but I learned my lesson after my mother died. For all I knew Stryker killed her too. Perhaps I would be friends with this mutant and he would meet the same fate…or maybe I would be next.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: Hey everyone thank you for being so patient with me. I've been student teaching all semester and I am just finishing up. I hope to be able to write and update more often now, so we shall see. Anyway, this chapter might actually be considered M for language and implied content, but I just got so into writing it I couldn't stop. Enjoy!

* * *

Awkward. That is quite possibly the best word to use for the situation I found myself in. Glancing at Logan's and John's reflections in the shop mirror in front of me told me they were feeling the exact same way. What a nightmare. I tried telling them, I could go shopping for something to wear all on my own, but they had insisted on escorting me. We had no idea where Stryker or Creed were, and neither wanted to take the chance of me getting cornered on my own.

So here we were, me modeling different outfits for the salesgirl, John, and Logan. And truly, the only one seemed to be having any fun was the salesgirl whose name happened to be Britt with a star dotting the "i." Seriously…people do that apparently.

"Oh wow! Yellow is totally your color," she cried clapping her hands together. I tried to smile at her enthusiasm, but really, who gets excited over a color. The last time I got excited over a color, it was when I eleven and was able to wash the blood out of a pair of gloves. I could tell Logan was getting just as irritated as I was; unfortunately, he wasn't nearly as good at hiding his repulsion for the girl.

"So is that what we're buying?" John asked standing up for the third time. Immediately, I knew the answer.

"What?" Britt asked with a giggle. "Of course not! We've only just chosen her color scheme. Now we'll pick out the perfect top and some matching skinnies." She turned to me then. "You are going to look so hot, I promise!" I glanced back at my friends and shrugged. This was their fault. I wanted to go to Walmart…assholes.

An hour and a half and nine outfits later, Britt finally deemed me "totally hot." And we were released from the store. As I waited for John to pay, I gazed at my reflection in wonder. Never in a million years would I have ever expected to wear something so ridiculous and so obviously not me. I had been transformed into an actual girl. From the white camisole barely covered by a button down yellow blouse tied beneath my chest, to the cutoff denim mini skirt. From the white head band to the cowboy boots on my feet…I looked nothing like myself.

As we left the store, John started whistling and I immediately punched in in the face. "What the fuck!" he cried, as Logan laughed out loud. I ignored his cry of pain and merely walked ahead, not wanting to deal with his wisecracks. Yes I looked ridiculous, sure I probably looked completely out of place, but I was not going to deal with any stupid comments from these two of all people.

"Nadia, come back!" Logan shouted, but I merely picked up speed and ran, wanting to get away from whatever he had to say. Finally I reached the city square and lost myself among the throngs of people beginning to emerge for the renowned nightlife of New Orleans. I worked my way to the center fountain and set myself down, taking a deep breath. Again, I couldn't help but think I was way out of my depth. Maybe we should just walk up to the guy, knock him out, and then bring him back to our place to talk.

Suddenly, I heard Logan's and John's voices shouting over the crowd for me. Not wanting to talk to them at that moment, I stood and made my way to the nearest open door and found myself entering what seemed to be some sort of bar/casino/pool hall. I choked on the smoke hanging in the air and moved toward the bar. Sitting down, I asked for a water and stared pointedly at the glass before me. I probably needed to work on my attitude. Why did every little thing have to upset me to the point of me going off alone to wallow over my own pathetic life? It really wasn't fair to John and Logan, especially when they both still cared for me so much.

As I debated returning to my friends to apologize, however, I felt hot breath on my ear and I jumped. Turning to face the intruder, I rolled my eyes at the sight of three large men leering down at me. I won't lie, they were reasonably attractive, but I could immediately tell what sort of people I was dealing with. Typical college assholes on some sort of vacation, using mommy and daddy's money to torment anyone who crossed their paths. Marveleous.

"Hey there Sweetheart, how 'bout some shots on us?" the first asked placing a hand on my leg. I stared pointedly at the spot where I was being accosted. The other two settled in around me and I could feel the bartender's eyes on me. How sweet. He wanted to make sure I was okay.

"Please remove your hand and no thanks," I replied forcefully. I was in no mood to deal with bullshit like that. Not when I was already feeling a little pissed off. My new friends didn't seem to get the message though. Another of the men started touching my shoulders as the third sat down next to me.

"Awww come on. We're just looking for a good time like you, Baby," Man 3 replied. I raised my eyebrows and took him in. His curly brown hair just made it to his ears and his bright blue eyes were leering all over my form. But it wasn't his classic good looks that kept my attention. My eyes glanced down toward his lap to see that yes, he was indeed looking for a good time and apparently thought he'd found one in me. Shoving Man 2's hands from my shoulders, and Man 1's hand from its precarious position in my lap, I stood and started moving toward the nearest exit I could spot.

Immediately I realized my error as I stepped not into the main square, but into the alley behind the bar. Turning to return the way I'd come, I was halted at the sight of my three new friends.

"Look at this Trey, she found us a more private venue," Man 2 called out. Trey laughed and stepped toward me.

"Hey don't take it all, Trey!" called Man 1. "Don't tire her out before Bryce and me have a shot at that ass." I cringed at the way they spoke about me.

"Bryce and I, dumbass," I said, my voice rising slightly, hoping I could joke the situation away. Where the Hell were John and Logan?

"So you got a mouth on you yeah?" Trey asked, his eyes glinting under the lamplight. "Maybe we should teach you what to do with those pretty little lips…" Was no one seeing this? Tired of hearing these three guys talk about me and tired of waiting for someone to see, I tried running past them toward the square. No such luck.

"Oh you're not going anywhere," the unnamed third man whispered, groping at me. I'm not really sure if I reacted in a manner appropriate for the situation, but as soon as the tool in the stupid rugby tee pulled me to him, I felt a rush I hadn't felt since I had left Stryker's team. I reacted in the manner in which I was trained: violently.

Just as he placed on hand on my chest, I reached up and snapped his thumb. The cry of pain that erupted from his mouth brought a smile of satisfaction to my face, but I refused to stop there. I had been someone's plaything before, and I wasn't about to become one again.

Grabbing his broken thumb, I wheeled around to face my attacker. I honestly don't know if he and his friends realized the can of worms they opened when they decided I was going to be their party girl for the night, but I didn't care. With my control over his hand, I smashed his own fist, up into his nose, while simultaneously tripping him with my foot.

Watching the man fall before me, I paused to take in what I had done. Of course the pause was not to my advantage, for that's when the one called Bryce grabbed my hair and flung me to the ground. I scrambled and let lose a high kick from my positions straight into his stomach. Standing up, I gave a cough, pleased with my performance.

That's when I remembered, I was not being accosted by two men…but by three. I whipped myself around, but not before Trey punched me in the stomach, sending me flying backward. Crumpling to the ground, I cried out, but little breath remained in my lungs. Unable to think clearly through the pain, I barely noticed as he dragged me farther into the alley where his friends were recovering from my attacks. I didn't need the bright lights from the square to notice the rage mixed with lust on their faces.

I tried pulling away, but for all my agility and speed, I had all the strength of a ten year old. I had nothing on these three athletes surrounding me. "I don't think so," he laughed. "Not after all that." He pushed me forward and I skidded on the dirty cement; gravel, and broken glass becoming embedded in my hands. With little other choice at that point, I attempted crawling away. Smack!

The unnamed man's hand collided with my face and I was sent sprawling once more. God, it had been awhile since I had been hit. It really hurt…I must have been out of practice. But spitting the blood from my mouth, I muttered the words I had never before dared to say to Stryker. "Fuck you."

I swear, you could have cut the silence that followed with a knife. In those few moments of peace, I wondered once more where John and Logan were. I smiled. They were right; I shouldn't off on my own…ever.

Suddenly I was pulled to my feet and could feel myself being shoved front side first into the wall. As the other two held my arms still, Trey whispered in my ear, while lightly running a finger down my back, "No sweetheart…fuck you." And that's when the air around me exploded in a flash of purple.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Okay so I suck at updating. I apologize. BUT on positive note, thank you everyone who is following this story or favorited it or reviewed it. It's amazing how such simple acknowledgment can make a person feel so good!

I actually wrote this during the men's gymnastic team final. I love the olympics! Maybe I'll do another chapter tomorrow during women's.

* * *

The summer I met Jo and started nannying her girls proved to be a tremendous test for me. The very first week in fact, while playing in a park, Lydia became distracted by a few middle school boys playing a little way away. They had somehow gotten hold of some firecrackers and convinced Lydia to come play. Being a curious child and my attention focused on the younger girls, she agreed without hesitation.

As a joke, one of the boys lit one of the firecrackers and tossed it toward Lydia. I don't know if it was shock or just a lack of understanding, but she failed to drop it. It exploded in her hand and we had to rush her to the hospital. When we finally removed her bandages two days later, Lydia was completely blind. Eventually she regained her sight, but the three weeks leading up to her being able to differentiate between dark and light were horrible.

The doctors later told us it was my quick thinking and knowledge of advanced first aid that saved her vision. I was with the family ever since.

The point of this story? As soon as I saw the flashes and heard the bangs, I covered my face and crouched down as much as I could. I couldn't imagine being blind and lost in New Orleans when anyone could sneak up on me. And that was when I had my stroke of genius. Back when I was on the team, if anyone tried to sneak up on me, I would have blown them away. I was a Goddamn mutant! What the Hell was wrong with me? Without bothering to check behind me, I stretched one arm behind my back and let loose whatever strength I had left in one powerful burst.

Knocking myself into the wall, I coughed trying to catch my breath as the smoke settled around me. "Well well, the little girl packs a little punch," a deep voice chuckled behind me. "You should have done that five minutes ago, Chere." Catching my breath once more, I risked a glance at this new, unfamiliar person joining my attackers and me in the alleyway. Still unable to stand, I took in the man who either A: had rescued me, or B: was going to finish me off.

He stood before me, leaning against a wall. He had a smirk on his face that did not alarm me, but actually infuriated me. I suddenly realized what he had said to me and I was irate. Ignoring the pain in my face and stomach, I pulled myself to my feet, stumbled toward this strange man, and slapped him with what little strength I could muster.

"You were here the whole time?" I asked disbelievingly. "And you waited until they were literally about to fuck me up to do anything?" At that point, my voice had risen significantly, and I had begun to shake. My adrenaline was pumping, but I had nowhere to channel all my rage and energy but toward this unbelievable stranger who had opted to play the hero to my damsel.

"You were doing just fine," he argued with a wink, "until that end bit there. Next time, watch out for the sneak attacks. You wouldn't want to mess that pretty face anymore, would you?" He probably thought he was being charming by tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear and sending another wink my way. But seeing how I had nearly been raped by three guys in an alleyway, had broken at least one rib, and was bleeding splendidly from my lip, charm was not too high of my "Things That Impress Me" list. So I slapped him again and proceeded to walk away without as much as a thank you.

"Hey don't go!" he shouted, running to catch up with me. It wasn't too hard to do, considering my current state, but I refused to acknowledge him. "Won't you tell me your name?" he asked, matching his stride to mine. I continued to blatantly ignore the man whose Cajun accent was quickly thickening as he became more and more frustrated with me. "Don't you want to know how I saved you?" I knew how he saved me…he was clearly a mutant like me; I just didn't care enough to compare powers with him. "Aren't you curious about the mysterious masked man who saved you and your virtue?"

Oddly enough, that halted me. "What are you talking about? You don't have a mask," I stated, suddenly very confused.

"True! But it made you stop, oui?" he chuckled taking hold of my hand. Before I had time to respond, he was leading me carefully out of the alley and toward some unknown destination of his own choosing. Still unsure of what was even going on with my new best friend and having no clue where my actual friends were, I let this stranger lead me through the streets.

"Might this poor soul ask you name, Chere?" he asked with a grin and a flourish.

"Not like that," I replied, raising an eyebrow. He seemed to wilt before my eyes but with a huff he tried again.

"What's your name?" he tried again rather blandly. I could tell he was obviously a ladies' man and for me to react so cooly to him was a bit of a blow. I couldn't help but smile at the ridiculousness of my situation and my companion.

"It's Nadia," I told him, surprising myself. I hadn't spoken my real name in almost three years, but now that Logan was back, it was as if I had slipped right back into my old routine. Thinking harder, it wasn't just my name, but everything. How quickly did I agree to help hunt down Stryker? How ready was I to use my training to hurt my attackers? How far would I have gone for self preservation? Suddenly, it was as if the world I had worked so hard to build around me was caving in and there was nowhere for me to escape but into that tiny tunnel leftover from my Stryker years. I didn't want back in that tunnel, but it was like I had no choice.

My companion must have sensed a change in me, because he placed an arm around my shoulder and patted my hand. I almost laughed at how much this simple act of comfort reminded me of Wade, but the knowledge that he was dead stifled it.

"Well Nadia," the still unnamed stranger said, "I think you could use a little drink." He steered me into a dimly lit bar, reeking of smoke and alcohol and led me to a table for two. I probably should have declined, but the stress of everything that had happened in the last few days was overpowering. I nodded and as he walked away, I called out to him, suddenly realizing he had never given me his name.

"And what's your name Oh Non-masked Man?"

He shot me a third wink and called back with a bow, "LeBeau, but lovely ladies such as yourself cal me Remy." Jesus, where the Hell was Logan when you needed him?


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Note: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I know it's been ages and I really don't have an excuse other than I've been on Doctor Who and Once Upon a Time writing binges. Thank you all so much though for keeping up with the story and for the reviews. It's amazing what a single review or one new follower can do for a writer's self esteem. Enjoy!

* * *

"Where the Hell are you?" I rolled my eyes as Logan continued to berate me over the phone. Of course he was pissed; because really, when was I not pissing him off in some manner? Knowing he didn't want me to actually answer yet, I took the opportunity to take another look around the restroom in the back of the shit bar Remy had led me to. It wasn't the classiest of places, but then again, this hadn't been a four star vacation so far.

I took another glance in the dirty mirror behind me and sighed. Honestly the damage wasn't as bad as I had expected. A cut lip was easy enough to deal with, and I had stopped bleeding a while ago. I was lucky; the pain in my side had faded, and I doubted I had broken a rib. Probably bruised, but I had had worse.

"I'm telling you, Kid, you have got to be one of the dumbest people I know," he continued. I allowed myself a small smile. He was clearly losing steam. Calling me a kid was always a sign he was running out of material. It was time to speak up.

"Logan I-"

"I'm not done yet!" he roared, and I rolled my eyes once more.

"But Logan!" I tried again.

"No! You tell me where you are right now before I track you down and –" That was enough for me.

"I found him, Asshole!" Silence. "So if you're ready to calm down…I will give you the address and not kick your ass for being a real jerk just now." More silence. "Are you still there?" I asked, wanting a little bit of acknowledgement for my excellent work finding our target…I didn't think it necessary to clue Logan in that the target actually found me.

"I'm here," he growled. Not exactly the calm voice I asked for, but I wasn't going to push my luck.

"Okay then." I proceeded to give him the address and tell him not to come in all ready to kick ass. "He seems like an okay guy, if not a little forward. I think he'll be willing to help us." We quickly finished up our conversation and I headed back into the main bar. I found Gambit, or Remy as he told me, at a poker table clearly dominating the game.

"Welcome back ma cheri, I thought you had abandoned me," he chuckled pulling a chair out for me at the table. I rolled my eyes and sat next to my newest friend.

"Why would I leave?" I asked. "You promised me a drink, don't you remember?" As if out of nowhere, Remy placed a beer in front of me with a cool smirk.

"Never say I don't deliver on my promises." He held up his own beer and clinked mine in a toast. Not quite sure what to do then, I asked if I could play too. Silly question apparently.

"How about you let me teach you a little something before you dive into a high roller's deal?" Clearly he wasn't really asking me…whatever, if he wanted to show off his skill at cards, I would let him.

"Fine," I replied gesturing toward the cards. "Impress me." The men at the table laughed at my challenge, and Remy smirked. Honestly I didn't expect to care much once the game actually started. All of the players, including the man who moments ago had been so obsessed with me, were completely into their game, and I couldn't blame them. As I watched the game begin I could see why Remy didn't want me playing. They were using antes as well as big and small blinds. I quickly did the math and figured that whoever was in the big blind position would be betting $200 before even seeing his cards.

I remembered watching the guys on Stryker's team playing when I was younger. Already I was impressed with how much these men were risking over what I considered a game of chance.

"I know what you're thinking cheri," he said suddenly, looking away from his hand only to gauge the other players' faces.

"Please enlighten me," I replied sarcastically.

"You are thinking," he began, saying each word slowly in concentration, "that there is no skill whatsoever in this little game of ours."

"And you would tell me differently, I suppose," I said in response, tilting my head.

"LeBeau, your new friend is more suspicious than the others," the player across from me said.

"Oh others," I chuckled. "Good to know I'm so special." No one can say I don't know how to get my flirt on. The players laughed once more as Remy glared at the man who had spoken up.

"Seriously though…" I began, hoping to diverge our conversation away from the awkwardness of boy-girl flirtations. "What skill really goes into this? I used to watch my – my brothers play a lot. All I saw were a bunch of macho jerks trying to intimidate each other into losing." I smiled, thinking about how that was exactly how the guys used to play.

"You need to know people cheri," Remy explained finally looking at me and leaning in close. "You need to be able to look at another man and answer one simple question: Is he aiming to win or not to lose? Once you figure that out, it isn't difficult to tell how he'll play the game."

"You realize they're the same thing right?" I snorted. Remy only smirked.

"And that, ma cheri, is why you are not playing." The other men at the table laughed and I blushed.

"Fine, well what about you, Mr. LeBeau? How do you play the game?" I asked, suddenly very aware of how close we were to each other.

"I guess you'll have to wait and see cheri." He was looking me straight in the eyes as he put down his hand claiming a win from the table. I finally turned away, again not quite sure what I should have been doing in those moments of such heated stares. Were we even talking about poker anymore? Where was Logan?

Remy chuckled and leaned back after pulling his winnings toward him. "So please tell cheri, what were you doing alone in that alley?" I blushed again, realizing how stupid I must have looked, getting myself into that situation.

"I got separated from my friends." It was mostly the truth, I thought to myself. "They'll be coming here to get me," I added.

"And you're sure they'll have a better time than you?" I noted the twinkle in his eyes and made a face.

"Something tells me they'll be fine…" I looked over my shoulder and sure enough, there was Logan and John standing in the open doorway. I turned back to Remy and grinned.

"Hey I'll be right back, kay?" He nodded as I started toward the front of the bar, but stopped me. I glanced down at his hand holding my wrist, I raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

He gave me another smirk. "Don't keep me waiting too long…I'll start to think'll I have to rescue you again." I rolled my eyes and pulled my arm from his grasp. I couldn't help but shoot him one last glance as I reached Logan and led my friends outside. Already, Remy was deep in thought as his hand was dealt, and for the first time since meeting him, I actually began to feel bad for what we were trying to drag him into.

For the first time since this whole ordeal began…I felt ashamed. Ashamed not for what I had done, but what I would do. How many more people was I going to drag into mine and Logan's war? Would it be worth it?


	18. Chapter 18

Rather than discuss the situation where Remy could still see us should he look up from his game, I led both Logan and John out into the street and into the side alley. Immediately Logan had hold of my chin as he inspected my face. I could sense John zoning in on my cut up hands which I quickly shoved behind my back.

"Should I even ask?" Logan asked with a sigh. "Because really, what the hell?"

"Nadya," John added. "Not even two hours on your own…what happened?" I wrung my hands and shrugged my shoulders.

"There was a thing, well a guy, well three guys and an alley…but I'm fine! See?" I proceeded to wave my arms around turn in a circle, an act which John seemed to find hilarious. Logan on the other hand was hardly impressed. Giving my cheesiest grin, I gave him a nudge. "Really, I'm fine. Remy-"

"Oh Remy is it?" he replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Gambit…Remy, whatever, it's his name." I crossed my arms and looked between the two men. "Remy saved me from some stuff, so I think he's all right."

"Saved you? I thought you said it wasn't a big deal." I gave John a death glare and gave a sigh.

"It's _not,_" I assured him. "Jesus Christ guys, come on. I'm here, you're here, and he's right in there! A little bit of _focus _would be appreciated." Logan only glared as John shrugged. Honestly, men have the strangest priorities.

"Fine," Logan finally replied with a huff. "He the one in purple…at the table you were at?" I nodded and made to lead the two back into the bar, but Logan held up an arm. "Oh no, you've done your part, I'll handle this." John nodded in agreement.

"He knows me, and he likes me. I'm going with you." It seemed pretty obvious to me that should Logan "Mr. Kick Ass and Take Names" go in there alone, Remy might feel a bit cornered.

He shook his head and nodded toward John. "No, I need you to out here in case he bolts."

"He'll be less likely to bolt, if I go with you," I replied through gritted teeth.

"No! Could you not argue? For once in your life, would you just listen, follow your fucking orders, and do as you're told?" He shouted. I took a step back, surprised at the outburst. Even John, looked a little taken aback.

"Hey, I'll take the back entrance," he offered. Then it was just Logan and me standing silently outside the bar. Neither of us said anything for a few moments. I could only stare blankly at my feet trying to remember a time when Logan had yelled at me in actual anger and not just irritation. I couldn't.

He sighed. "Look I'm sor-" I quickly cut him off.

"Stop, no…_I'm_ sorry I didn't realize I was a soldier again. I wasn't aware I was back in the business of taking orders."

"Nadya, come on. I didn't mean it like that." I could see the regret reflecting in his eyes.

"Yeah you did, Logan. You did…" I ran a hand through my tangled hair and looked over to the center square. In another life, maybe I could have been dancing with those little kids by the fountain. Maybe I could have been making out with that soccer player across the street. Maybe I could even have been that mother pushing the stroller with her husband. But this wasn't another life…this was my life.

"You know, I was a pretty messed up kid," I began, not entirely sure where I was heading. "I watched my little brother be murdered by the man I later was totally in love with…that's right, with Wade. And honestly, if you didn't see it you're a fucking moron. Anyway, my mother was taken from me, and I never saw my brother Piotr again. I ended up with you. I was eight years old, scared shitless and alone, but I had you.

"I didn't know what it was about you, but I could tell you were different. It's taken me a few years, but I think I finally figured out what it was." I paused and turned to Logan. His eyes seemed to pierce through me as I came to a realization.

"You were the one person on that stupid team who never, ever forced me to do anything. Even if it was for my own safety, you never ordered me around. It was always "Nadya, it might be a good idea for you to stand in back" or "Nadya, please follow John this time" or "Nadya, if you upset Viktor again, he'll hit you." You made me feel like I had some choice…even if I didn't."" I gave a small laugh.

"And let's face it, when did I ever really have a choice in anything?" Logan didn't return the laugh, so I sighed and continued on. "I guess it was stupid of me to think things were the same. I grew up…I have opinions and ideas and the stones to actually voice them. I grew up, but you can't see it. All you see is some kid who still sucks her thumb when she sleeps and is still afraid of bees. I grew up…you didn't."

Too embarrassed to actually wait for a response, I turned and moved to join John in the back. I truly hadn't meant to say anything of what I had. Putting Logan on the spot was not something that made me feel very good; in fact I felt downright shitty. But could only hope, he wouldn't resent me for what I said.

When I reached John, he looked like he was ready to say something, but I shook my head. "Don't say anything," I said blankly. He nodded and went to lean against the wall.

"How do you think it's going in there?"

I shrugged, honestly hoping Logan was going to get the shit kicked out of him; though the odds of that happening were minimal. Suddenly a crash from farther down the alley caught our attention. All I saw was a swish of a coat, but I shuddered in apprehension anyway. I glanced at John who was staring hard in the direction of the noise.

"What's-"

John shushed me, and I immediately shut my mouth. After a few moments, John squeezed my hand and without a second glance moved forward. "You wait here." I nodded. I don't know how I knew something was wrong, but I was dead scared of whatever it was John was walking into. As he disappeared from my sight, I strained to hear what was happening.

My attention had completely transferred from what could be happening in the bar to what was happening in the alley. After what seemed to be a few minutes, I took a tentative step forward. "John?" I called softly. "John, answer me please."

I took a few more steps, but cursed as I remembered him telling me not to move. Turning around, I let out a scream quickly muffled by a large, cold hand. Staring back at me with the same sick grin I remembered from my childhood was Viktor Creed. I tried to push away, but he grabbed my wrist and flung me to the wall. I made to blast him away, but with a speed I didn't think possible he moved his hand from my mouth to my throat.

I gasped for breath as Viktor squeezed tighter, raising me from the ground. "Hello, little Nadya," he murmured, stroking my cheek with his other hand. I tried to hold in my tears, but I was too busy trying to breathe. "I know someone who is very eager to see you again."

"Please," I gasped, but Viktor ignored my single plea. The world around me began growing dark, and the last thing I saw before completely losing consciousness were his cold eyes, shining in pleasure at my pain.

* * *

What I find incredibly interesting is how people choose to prioritize their lives. For example, there was this one time when Joanne went on a date with this guy from her work. She had been making goo-goo eyes at him for weeks and always had a new hilarious story to tell me about Gino…Jerry? No, Gino…oh screw it. She was really into Whatshisface. Despite the obvious attraction and the fact he brought to this amazing restaurant on the lake, the whole evening fell to pieces. Apparently, she was certain she had forgotten to remove the drier lint from the filter and every one of their conversations returned to laundry and drier lint safety. Be still my swooning heart, right?

Why she didn't call me to check, I may never know. Why the drier lint suddenly took precedence over her first night out in three years, I may also never know. The point here is that something really important may be happening to you, but in that same moment, something completely unrelated and inconsequential may be wheedling its way into your mind. That is precisely what happened to me right before I lost consciousness in Viktor Creed's arms. I remember thinking, of all things, "I forgot to return the girls' library books…Jo doesn't like late fees." What the Hell?


	19. Chapter 19

I have no good excuse as to why it has taken me so long to update and I apologize. This is another look at her life, pre-Logan reentering her life. I hope you enjoy it! PS. I've always wanted to visit the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum!

* * *

On March 18 in 1990, what is considered to be the greatest crime in art history occurred at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, Massachusetts. Two men using the distractions of St. Patrick's Day entered the museum in the middle of the night disguised as Boston Police. They stole thirteen works of art in eighty-one minutes that today are worth 300 million dollars. Such pieces included the only seascape painted my Rembrandt van Rijn called The Storm on the Sea of Galilee, as well as Johannes Vermeer's The Concert which is currently valued at 200 million dollars.

In remembrance of the horrific event, several empty frames hang in the museum's "Dutch Room." They will remain until the missing artwork returns home…if they ever do.

* * *

I was fifteen when I found myself in Boston. I had been on my own for nearly two years, and though I had told Logan I was going to find some place to live and settle…I hadn't. I continued the exact life I had had with Logan, only now I was alone. I never knew how lucky I had been to have someone…to have Logan. Hindsight is 20/20, I guess. I don't know what asshole invented that saying, but I hated him for creating what seemed to be my life's motto. I wish something more badass fitted me more.

Winter is coming.

Not all who wander are lost.

Hell, I would even take "Beware the ides of March." Whatever the hell an ide is…

Anyway, Boston. Alone. Fifteen. No social skills to speak of…that was me. At the time, I tended to spend my days wandering the city looking for random jobs to do in exchange for food or money. More often than not, unfortunately, I seemed to be more likely to resort to theft and lies. I admit that these were not my proudest days.

It was during one of my wanderings that I found myself in front of what I later learned was the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. It was an ungodly hot day, so seeing this huge building that was sure to have air conditioning seemed an obvious solution. I walked up the steps with a few small groups of people only to be stopped by a security officer.

"Which group are you with?" he asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Do I need a group?" I asked. I restrained myself from rolling my eyes. He wasn't stopping anyone else.

"You need to be supervised in here," he explained as he continued to block my way. I watched as the people walking by glanced my way curiously. "Where are your parents?" I spotted the taser at his side and couldn't help but think how easily I could remove the man from my path. A quick kick to the left knee (he was favoring that side…a sprain maybe?) followed by a jab to his gut would get me the weapon. The odds, however, stated this wouldn't help my situation any. I couldn't help but smile. I was becoming much less impulsive. Good for me.

"Miss, you should probably turn around," he advised motioning toward the steps behind me. I sighed.

"Come on, I won't-"

"Do I need to call the police?" he asked, clearly ready to lose his temper. I didn't know what his problem was…

"But I-" I was cut off once more.

"Thank you Charlie, I'll take it from here," stated a voice behind me. I turned to see an older man smiling at the security officer. I looked him over suspiciously as he placed one wrinkled hand on my shoulder softly. "I'll accompany the young lady. We wouldn't want to deprive a child of experiencing art such as ours, would we?"

I glanced up at the man called Charlie. "Of course not, I just thought…well look at her," he protested.

"Hey!" I cried. Maybe I was looking a little ragged, but he didn't have to point it out to the world.

"Now now, Charlie. She's clearly underage…that's free admission. And I've already agreed to escort her. Anyway, I'm sure the young lady wasn't planning on setting fire to a Botticelli or shredding a shredding the Titian. Were you my dear?" I started at being addressed by this strange man.

"Uhh no?" I replied. Who was this man?

"And are you going to steal our Tsenenobu or break our Dürer?" He gave me a wink and smile, and I couldn't help but offer a small smile in return.

"No," I said a little more strongly this time.

"Excellent! Have a good day Charlie and keep up the good work." The old man ushered me into the building, and I let out a small sigh at the rush of cool air in my face. I glance once over my shoulder to see Charlie shaking his head and return to the main desk in the entrance building. Looking at my new companion, I wasn't sure what to say.

"Thanks," I stated rather lamely. "I mean…yeah, thanks." He chuckled and paused to turn to me.

"My dear girl, art is meant to be enjoyed by all, not just a select few. And might I say you have happened upon quite an excellent place to enjoy it. I'm Quentin Bell, and if I may ask your name? Though if you plan on offering me a false name, I would not be offended. THough perhaps I could give myself one as well. Quentin is a bit of a rubbish name, and I was always partial to the actor Spencer Tracy…what do you think? Could I pull off Spencer?"

I could only smile as the man spoke so kindly and so candidly. I hadn't had a satisfying conversation with someone since I was with Logan.

"Nadia," I finally replied, shaking his hand.

"Now I'm detecting a bit of a lilt here…Eastern European or Western Asian, Nadia?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I had thought I was getting pretty good at hiding my accent.

"Russian…how could you tell?"

He chuckled and patted my back leading me to the café. "I have done a fair bit of traveling my dear, and Moldova was always a favorite of my wife's. Come what can I get you to eat?" he asked motioning toward the menu hanging above us. I shook my head.

"I'm fine, really," I said forcefully.

"I insist. And if you don't tell me what you want, I shall have to choose for you," he replied sternly, not losing the brightness in his eyes. "And then who know what could happen? I may order you the Turkey and Cranberry Croissant. What if you are allergic to turkey or cranberry? And if I go simpler and order you a piece of pizza, you may in fact be lactose intolerant. Other way you end up in the hospital and I end up in jail for practically poisoning the very child I said I would look after."

I only stared as he finally finished speaking. How could someone possibly have so much to say but use so little breath to say it? He kept looking at me expectantly, until I finally shook my head.

"I like turkey," I replied slowly. He smiled and led me to a table.

"Wait here, and I shall return in but a moment," he explained while heading off to the counter. I could only sit and stare after him. Finally, I released a sigh and glanced around me. There were several families who all seemed to be enjoying lunch together. I saw a young couple, maybe a few years older than me, in a corner sharing some ice cream. I turned my gaze back to Bernard who was ordering just as he flashed a smile my way and threw me a wave.

I gave a small smile and looked at the family at the next table. A mother, two boys, and a girl…talk about a déjà vu. The woman noticed me staring and before I could look away, she leaned over. "Here with your grandfather?" she asked kindly. Unsure of what to say, I only shrugged.

"It is so refreshing to see a teenager spending time with her family. My own John is just getting to the age where he would rather set his hair on fire than be seen in public with us." I joined her laughter as who I assumed was John rolled his eyes.

"Oh he's coming back," she observed as Bernard began heading our way. "You have fun with your grandpa and don't forget to check out the Dutch Room!" I watched her and her children gather up their trash and head back to the main part of the museum.

"Making friends?" Bernard asked happily.

"She asked if you were my grandfather," I admitted, feeling silly I had not corrected her.

He only laughed while handing me what looked like the most delicious sandwich I had ever seen in my life. Digging into my meal, I could barely focus as Bernard drew me into conversation. He asked about my time in Boston, where I was from. He asked me my favorite book and movie. I almost told him how the only movies I ever saw were from sneaking into theaters. I didn't really think it appropriate to talk about my criminal background to the man who had vouched for me earlier.

Just as we were gathering up our trash, I turned to my new friend. "What's the Dutch Room?"

"Hmmm, oh yes! The Dutch Room, probably our most visited part of the whole museum…since 1990 of course." He sighed. Why did he look so sad?

I gave a questioning look, and Bernard gasped. "You don't know?"

I shook my head. "Know what?"

"Come along!" I sat in shock as Bernard quickly dumped his garbage and strode off without me. I shook my head and raced to catch up before he left me completely. Charlie would probably hunt me down and throw me out…ass. I followed Bernard silently upstairs as he led me further down the halls. Finally he turned into a beautiful room filled with paintings and sculptures. Not knowing when to turn first, I glanced over at Bernard who nodded to my right. I looked over, only to see several empty frames hanging in the center of the wall.

Moving closer, I frowned at the empty spaces. "Is this one of those weird modern art things some places have?" I called over my shoulder. If it was, I didn't like it. Not next to all these beautiful paintings. I turned to Bernard as he approached me from behind.

"No my dear, though I wish it were so. These frames are all we have left of what was stolen from here a number of years ago. They are left to pay homage to what was lost as well as to save the place should the artwork ever return to us." I only frowned, confused. Bernard sighed and began telling me of March 18, 1990.

* * *

I'm was never sure why this particular moment had stuck in my mind for so many years. Maybe it was because like CaraLee, Bernard genuinely seemed to care about me. Maybe it was because it was the first time I was exposed to true beauty. Maybe it was just that stupid sandwich that honestly would have been better without the cranberry sauce.

Odds are, however, is that those empty frames sparked something within me. Was there a frame out there in the world waiting for me to return home? Did I have a place where I was cared for so much, they would wait until the end of time for me to come back? If so, where was it? How was I supposed to know where to go? Should I even bother caring?

That, of course, was assuming I was the painting. What if I was the frame waiting for something to return to me? And if that was the case, what was I waiting for? How long was I going to have to wait? And again, should I even bother caring?


	20. Chapter 20

Here's another for you!

* * *

Mornings have always been my favorite part of the day. Those first few seconds when you first wake up, to those first few minutes when you lie in bed totally at peace. Curled up tight in my blankets in the winter or sprawled out in a tank top in the summer, I never really cared. The idea of waking up to a whole new day was incredibly refreshing for me. So you would think that someone who loves waking up so much wouldn't have such a problem opening her eyes after a few hours' sleep.

Well let me tell you…waking up after a natural and peaceful eight hours is significantly different from waking up after being rendered, in a not so pleasant manner I might add, unconscious by a man so terrifying you still have nightmares about him as an adult. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew I was in trouble. I tried to keep my breathing even in case I was being watched. Just because I was awake, didn't mean I wanted anyone else to know it.

When I failed to hear anything apart from my own shallow breaths, I slowly opened my eyes and cringed under the dim lighting. _Probably a concussion_, I thought. I sat up gently hoping not to upset my head further, and looked around. I was alone in a small room on an even smaller cot in the very center. I rolled my neck and looked down. I was no longer wearing my outfit from New Orleans, but a grey jumpsuit. I shuddered as I tried not to think about who had changed my clothes while I was out.

I glanced over my body looking for any injuries and noticed a cotton ball taped to the inside of my elbow where a bruise was forming. I grimaced. They had taken blood. I remembered vaguely Freddy and John telling us Stryker had been experimenting on mutants; is that what was happening now?

"Stryker!" I called, causing my own ears to ring. I squeezed my eyes closed and put a hand to my head with a sigh. "Stryker!" I called again. I looked up and noticed the small camera zooming in on me. I stood up and moved to the door in the corner. I turned the handle and was amazed to find it unlocked. I took one last look at the camera still watching me, and sighed. If the door was unlocked, Stryker wanted me to get out. He was expecting me.

I peeked my head out the door and saw no guards waiting. I took one cautious step into the hallway and waited for alarms and gunfire, but none came. "What the fuck…" I muttered. Where was everyone?

I moved silently through the halls desperate to find an exit I knew I wouldn't find. I was alive for a reason, but what that reason was, I had no clue. After a few minutes with only my footstep to keep me company, I began to hear voices. They sounded frightened. I picked up my speed, knowing instinctively I was not the only one being held against their will. Even I didn't expect the sight I came upon.

Dozens of people held in small cages that varied in construction person to person. One boy was harnessed to the floor, ceiling, and bars and bounced to and fro with the speed of light. A young boy had a steel covering locked over his eyes for some reason. And one girl sat in the middle of a cage I could was lined with electrical wiring. I felt my stomach drop. These were the mutants Freddy had talked about. These were children…not hardened criminals. Barely any looked to be older than me.

I felt bile rise from my stomach, but I forced it back down. I ran to the closest cage that contained a young blonde woman. "I'm getting you out," I said forcefully.

"Run, just run," she insisted looking over her shoulder. "Please."

I just shook my head. "Stand back," I ordered as I took a step back myself. I rubbed my hands together and prepared to blast the side of the cage away, but just as I felt my power surge, I dropped to the ground screaming.

My head was splitting. There was no way my head was not being cut in two. I crushed my hands to my head as I screamed. The pain was so horrific, I thought for sure I would die. Hell, I wanted to die. Finally after what felt like an eternity, the burning and ripping sensations subsided, and I allowed myself to collapse fully onto the floor. I tried to look up at the girl I failed so miserably at helping, but couldn't stand to use my eyes.

"Nadya, did you really expect me to let you wander this facility completely unchecked? Do you not know me at all?" I cringed and made myself return to kneeling position. I would know that voice until the day I died and long after the world ended.

"Hey Colonel," I greeted coldly, finally raising my eyes to face him. "Long time no see."

He chuckled and moved forward, hand outstretched. I ignored it as I pushed myself up. Much to my own irritation, I stumbled and felt Stryker steady me. "It's hard to believe. We've come full circle, you and I. I picked you up off the ground all those years ago, and here I am picking you up of the ground twelve years later." I scoffed and pulled my arm away.

"And I'm betting twelve years later, you're still a dick." I gestured to the cages around me. "Oh hey look, I was right!" I cried. "What did you do to me?"

"Oh just a little something to make sure you're not tempted to use your gift against me. Remember when that was used to protect me and the team?" I only glared. "Of course then you left the team…and blew up our plane on your way out. Did it hurt, getting that scar on your back?" he asked cruelly, his sickening smirk still etched on his face.

I remained silent. "Viktor was right," he continued, pacing in front of me all the while. "You have grown up. Look at you," he said with a gesture. He looked almost proud at that moment, and I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming.

"You've turned into a beautiful young lady. Strong, intelligent, brave…trying to help those around you." He motioned toward the people behind me once more. "To think that's because of me." At that I actually laughed.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I cried with a roll of my eyes. "In what way have you affected my current state of being apart from forcing guns in my hands and stealing my family? I am here today, because of Logan and myself…not because of you. Jesus Christ…" I shook my head and released another small laugh. "What's sick," I added, "is that you actually believe what you're saying…God."

Stryker raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Let's take a walk, shall we?"

"And why would I go anywhere with you?" I asked seriously.

"Excellent question!" he exclaimed, causing me to jump. "I suppose because I am done with these _people_ behind you. I could just start shooting them in the heads one by one until you obey." I glanced over my shoulder and shook my head.

Turning to Stryker, I couldn't help but mutter, "I hate you."

He only sighed and turned, knowing I would follow. "I really wish you didn't. You would have been an excellent asset."

Releasing a heavy sigh I started after Stryker. "Are you going to kill me?" I asked blankly while he led me into a large open room. "Because in the past few years I've become quite fond of James Bond movies, and one thing I've learned is that the dickweed villain, aka you, always goes on and on about his shitty plan before dealing with James. I would rather die in some horrific act of violence than listen to your voice a second longer."

When he began to laugh, I glared at Stryker's back. Finally he turned. "Nadya, may I say that you are infinitely more entertaining than you were when you were twelve?" I rolled my eyes.

"Really!" he insisted. Instead of stuttering around me and mooning over Wade, you have actually found a spine. Good for you." I felt myself blush at the mention of my crush and felt utterly humiliated.

"Yeah well hitting puberty, surviving on the streets, and spending time with decent people tends to make a person grow up…and not in the shooting people sort of way, but the acting like a human being sort of way."

He ignored my response and continued his own conversation. "In answer to your question, by the way, no, I am not going to kill you…not yet anyway." He shot me another smile. "Logan will be coming for you; that is a certainty. And I believe he'll be a bit more level headed if you don't have a bullet between your eyes."

"He's not-"

"Not that stupid?" he finished for me with a laugh. "Of course he is! Now not only is he looking for revenge, but he needs to rescue you…you who he dragged into this whole affair. Because really, we had stopped looking for you a while ago. You could have continued whatever pathetic little life you had created for yourself had Logan not gone to you." I could feel stomach churn at the guilt Logan was sure to feel.

"But he did go to you, he did involve you, and now here you are." Stryker gestured grandly to the large space we had found ourselves in. "Back where you started…only this time you're alone." He took a step closer to me and I instinctively stepped backward only to be halted by a large mass behind me.

I felt Viktor's hot breath on my hair as I tried to slip between the two men, but he had tight hold on my shoulders. "Let me go," I ordered, trying not to let my fear show in my voice. "Just let me go." I winced as Viktor's nails dug into my skin.

"Viktor, show Nadya to her new lodgings please." I let out a yelp as Viktor shoved me forward. "And as soon as this is over, do what you like with her. It won't matter anymore…"

"What?" I cried as Viktor gave a bark of laughter. "Please…please!" Stryker only turned away, as Viktor pulled me along back to the room with the cages.

I tried to fight back as I was shoved into a cage next the teenage boy whose eyes were still covered up. All I got was a slap on the face and a kick in the stomach. "See you soon, little girl…" I let loose a scream and slew of expletives as Viktor walked away with a smirk. When I finally stopped to take a breath, the boy next to me spoke up.

"I don't think that's helping…" I shot the boy next to me a glare, though I knew he couldn't see it.

"Well thank you for your input Starshine, I guess I'll just sit back and relax then," I replied angrily, shaking the bars in front of me.

"So what exactly do you plan on doing?" the woman from earlier asked. "I'm Emma by the way." I sighed as I looked around my small cell and turned to Emma.

"Well Emma…I'm working on that. "Hey either of you know how long I've been here?"

"Yeah they brought you in a couple of hours ago. You were out cold," Emma replied, motioning toward the hallway I had come in through earlier.

I snorted. "Well obviously…" I muttered. I sat down on the cot and laid back.

"What are you doing?" the boy asked.

"Wallowing," I groaned. "Wallowing in the knowledge that my death is likely very imminent, that the one person who I consider a friend is on is way here and will probably die too, and the fact that all this could have been avoided had I not been a little bitch when I was nine…or at least a few hours ago when Viktor nabbed me from the ass end of some seedy bar in New Orleans."

We sat in silence for the next hour, for which I was grateful. No, I didn't have a plan. No, I wasn't going to stop complaining. No, I was not going to make friends with my fellow prisoners. As much as I loved the idea of getting to know some new people before I was shot…I was more interested, as I told the boy, in wallowing. I had found it was something I was quite adept at…I might as well hone the skill.


End file.
